


Bonds for Life

by JustJim, Useless_girl



Series: Home Is Where the Spark Is [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aged up characters, Alpha Derek, Angst, Dark, Derek is Derek, Detective Stiles, Drama, Druid lore, Emissary in Training Stiles, Epic Romance, Established Friendship, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Humor, Love, M/M, Magic, Magic Stiles, Miscommunication, Mysteries, PTSD, R (explicit), Sarcasm, Slash, Soulmates, Spark Stiles, Stiles is Stiles, Supernatural - Freeform, Switch Stiles, Werewolf Lore, Werewolves, Wit, actual communication, canon and non-canon elements, emissary bond, emissary stiles, m hurt/comfort, m/m - Freeform, mate bond, matured Stiles, post-Teen Wolf, sterek, switch derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23359387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustJim/pseuds/JustJim, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Useless_girl/pseuds/Useless_girl
Summary: In which Stiles and Derek actually get to visit Deaton for help and some explanations regarding their bonds and the Spark magic.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Home Is Where the Spark Is [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607563
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78





	1. 5: Bonds for Life - part 1

**Note:** This is the fifth part of the “[Home Is Where the Spark Is](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607563)” series. To understand better what’s going on, we recommend reading the previous entries. Enjoy!

 **Fandoms:** Teen Wolf, Sterek

 **Characters/relationships:** Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale, Alan Deaton

 **Rating/category:** R (explicit), supernatural, post-Teen Wolf, canon and non-canon elements, slash, M/M, Sterek, m hurt/comfort, dark, angst, PTSD, aged up characters, established friendship, Spark Stiles, Magic Stiles, Emissary Stiles, Emissary in training Stiles, detective Stiles, matured Stiles, Alpha Derek, switch Derek, switch Stiles, hand jobs, drama, epic romance, love, magic, fluff, soulmates, Mate bond, Emissary bond, werewolves, humor, wit, sarcasm, Derek is Derek, Stiles is Stiles, miscommunication, actual communication, werewolf lore, druid lore, mysteries

 **Summary:** In which Stiles and Derek actually get to visit Deaton for help and some explanations regarding their bonds and the Spark magic.

 **Disclaimer:** This is a product of our imagination and was written only for entertainment and fun. We don’t profit from this fanfiction and we mean no harm or disrespect against any real person, culture or custom that might appear in the story. All original pictures and fictional characters used in the story belong to their respective owners and credit goes to them.

* * *

**  
** [ _Just Jim edit_ ](https://jimtremor.tumblr.com/post/189399494806)

**  
Home Is Where the Spark Is  
** _By Just Jim & Useless-girl_

**5: Bonds for Life – part 1**

_Ugh._

Waking up was unpleasant, sunlight streaming in, caressing over his face, which made him want to turn around and hide under his pillow. His head was throbbing the moment he started to be dragged to full consciousness, his eyes felt gritty and dry and his mouth was like a desert, tongue stuck as he attempted to swallow. Testily he moved his limbs because that was what he usually did when waking up like this. It meant either he had been injured or kidnapped or at least there would be a reason to make sure he was still functional. His body however moved fine, no aches or breaks, no sharp pain from cuts being torn open because of the stretching. Underwear was still on, shirt wasn’t, he noted with the moving of his limbs, but that was also not anything new. However, a warm body next to his was.  
  
Cautiously he peeked through slits to discover Stiles there, making it all rush back to him. The overflow of magic, a ritual to settle bonds and said magic, Derek taking the ember flood because it was killing his mate. The weird rush of being consumed by lava and then what he imagined being under the influence of heroin or coke felt like. He had no idea how long it had lasted, how much he had babbled to the younger man, what he had acted like. His memories of that were hazy, because his mind had been too fuzzy to take it all in. Well, Stiles was still there so he couldn’t have been too much of an asshole or he would have been on the couch.  
  
As he reached out to touch his mate, he noticed the bandage wrapped around his lower arm, matching with the one Stiles had. The runes carved in by the knife, to make a connection for the magic to physically enter him. Maybe that’s why it had felt different, why it had been such a big thing to be slammed with, it had been spiritual the last times.

 _Ow_. His head so didn’t agree with him rolling over to his side to be able to actually touch Stiles. He wasn’t dying anymore but he certainly didn’t look much better. The dark circles haven’t disappeared from under his eyes, his skin hasn’t lost its pallor and he still looked like he had lost too much weight. When the wolf’s fingers touched the skin, it was warm but not too much so. However there was still pain lingering.  
  
Fingers found the human’s wrist so he could wrap the digits around it, pulling some of it to make it discomfort and not actual pain. His own body was thrumming with energy, the magic within had settled and it made him feel better. Honestly, if it kept up, he was probably going to look too young and people are going to notice. It was like the magic fed him, making him the glowing picture of health, and hopefully now with the bonds settled, it was going to do the same for the human, soon. Funny how he could pull the pain from his mate but his own head didn’t let up, which was a small price to pay for saving the life of one of the two people in his life who mattered the most. He closed his eyes and kept a hold of Stiles, waiting for him to wake up. It felt late in the day but Derek couldn’t be bothered to check on his phone. His stomach however, was really empty so maybe it was already late in the afternoon and they had slept at least twelve hours, most likely even more. Magic was exhausting.

An unconscious relived sigh escaped the pale man's slightly parted lips as the pain eased up on his body and his wrist moved a bit under the warm hand's hold. There was only darkness around Stiles and the touch of that hand now. The nightmares had their turn on tearing into him during the night, leaving him mentally and the magic physically tired. He fell into a coma-like deep sleep, barely moving during the night.  
  
He wanted to stay there indefinitely. It was so much easier to just drift in the darkness. But of course it didn't work that way and he became more aware of that touch on his wrist, the by then familiar tugging feeling on it making his consciousness slowly drift towards the surface. His breathing hitched for a moment as his eyes fluttered half-way open then he took a deep breath once he realized it was Derek holding his wrist and siphoning some of his pain.  
  
His body waited only for that to remind each and every muscle in it to go on and ache. Thank you very much, brain! It resulted in the same kind of "Ugh" comment like Derek's when he woke up.

"Feels like a truck hit me then backed up and hit me three more times..." he grumbled and although he rarely let anyone take and carry his pain, this time he wasn't ready to free his hand. Mostly because he wasn't ready to test just how bad off his body was.  
  
"Can't we just lay here all day without moving?" Stiles grunted. "So not ready to move just yet," he said but despite that, as he was lying on his stomach, he moved his head enough to be able to look at Derek. "Not fair... Why do you look so... glow-y and rested? Traitor magic..." he grumbled and damn, he 𝑤𝑎𝑠 grumpy. Way more than he usually was after waking up. Maybe some from Derek's personality has bled through into him too and it wasn't just because of the ritual?

"Sorry your magic likes me more than you," Derek deadpanned, not even bothering to open his eyes because he could feel the intense look on him and he knew there were all kinds of betrayal flickering over the human's face. He suspected it had something to do with his own healing and magic, it somehow got a positive effect on him. But he knew, if Stiles would take too much back, he'd look like Stiles did right now. It was all about balance, something they had lost along the way – the short way they had just started on together.  
  
The grumpiness of Stiles was understandable, he felt the same way when he had to start the morning without coffee. Sleeping this long was probably also not a good thing for a human, made him all stiff. A warm bath would be good for that, though he doubted an apartment like this had more than just a shower, he hadn't even seen the place. Stiles had fallen into his arms the moment the door had opened and after that, the apartment hadn't mattered all that much. It had a couch and a bed, that he did know.

"I think we already slept the day away." With a groan of protest he put effort into opening his eyes but he had no idea what happened to their clothes and his phone was in his jeans. Wait, there was an old-fashioned alarm clock, Star Wars edition of course, so he peered at the time. Yeah, they had skipped out on breakfast and lunch, it was four in the afternoon.  
  
"I should get up to make us some food and coffee." Should was the active word in there because he didn't want to but he also didn't want his mate to move a muscle, since he was the one in pain. "Order in or do you have actual food in this place?" It was said with a healthy dose of doubt, since he didn't look like there was food here at all.

"Sleep is good. Staying in bed even better. Why's the bathroom so far?" Stiles whined softly then sighed, trying to pull himself together to stop being a whiny child. Though Stiles did make a loud approving noise to Derek's thought on coffee and food. "I have coffee in the kitchen. Some donuts and eggs and bread and bacon and milk. Apple juice? Not sure about anything else," he murmured half-way in the pillow as food wasn't his top priority in the last couple of days. "But if you want to order in, there are a few numbers and menus on the fridge," he added, not really hungry or motivated to eat.  
  
It sounded like there was enough to make a meal out of, it might be more appealing to start with breakfast food instead of all the greasy stuff all the take out places were offering. They could always order some more food in a couple of hours because he felt like whatever food this place had, it wasn't going to be enough to tie them over until tomorrow. Derek knew his way around the kitchen well enough to scrounge up something edible. Not that it had his attention anymore, it was on the bandage on his skin.  
  
Derek wanted them to go to Deaton as soon as possible, try to get some answers out of the man who talked like a walking fortune cookie. They were going to have to be in a better condition though, some more sleep, some more food. Maybe tomorrow since the actual emergency had been dealt with. The wolf glanced at his arm again, not used to being bandaged up so he peeled at the white synthetic cloth to unwrap his arm, expecting to find unblemished skin. As usual. Only... it wasn't as usual. The rune was still there, healed up completely, looking like it had been branded into his skin instead of carved. Surprised, he traced the scarred tissue, to make sure it was really there.  
  
Scars were something fascinating to him, something he never had because it would all heal over. No matter how often he had been ripped apart, his body was whole and healthy, like none of it had happened at all. It should make it easier to forget, it certainly made it easier for others to forget that the Hale was a scarred wolf without having something to show for it. Sure, it was a good thing he healed or he'd be dead by now, dead and more scar tissue than he had skin. But there had been times where he had wanted a wound to scar over as a reminder of why it had been there. Now that reminder was burned into his skin, like a tattoo.  
  
The second Derek let his wrist go, Stiles felt the pains in his muscles get a bit sharper, but he didn't react aside from a slightly more shuddering breath. He was good at ignoring pain, so he rather focused on what Derek was doing. Frankly, he was curious too if the mark stayed on the wolf. He knew it was going to stay on his human skin and eventually scar over, but he couldn't be sure about Derek. It seemed, though, that it was going to be a permanent mark for him too.  
  
"I'm sorry... It stayed probably because it's magic-related," he mumbled, feeling like shit again – like before he fell asleep. "It's the mark of the Alpha-Emissary bond. According to Deaton, it was unavoidable in order to give an outlet to the magic. How... how are you feeling about it? And the mark? I didn't mean to brand you against your will, you know..." Stiles said quieter, his chest constricting painfully from the thought of forcing anything on Derek. "And we are mates too, aren't we?" he swallowed hard, his eyes slightly welling up. "I... I'm sorry for not giving you a choice about that either... I had read how important that bond is for wolves. It's for life. Did you even want 𝑚𝑒 for life? The annoying scrawny human of all? Please, don't hate me for all this... It's my fault because I should've learned more and should've had better control over my Spark..."  
  
Stiles was clearly not handling things so well in that moment and saw everything darker than they were. Maybe all that have happened were coming out on him now, his aching body a constant reminder that he screwed things up for Derek again without wanting to. Plus because of the bonds and magic, they moved so fucking fast that it also tugged on Stiles' insecurities. Their 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 relationship didn't have much time to get a solid foundation onto which they could build brick by brick. There were still so many things they haven't talked about yet and the idea of Derek being angry at him or even hating him for taking away his freedom of choice made him want to curl in on himself again, even if he didn't actually move.

"Nothing what happened was against my will." Derek had consented when asked to take the magic, even though he hadn't known the consequences. All he had known was that Stiles dying wasn't an option for him, couldn't bear the thought of losing him so soon. "You asked me to say yes to the ritual. You wouldn't have done it if I had said no." That was a firm belief. Stiles would have accepted his own death in favor of taking from Derek what he thought he had no right to. He wanted to say more about the mark but Stiles was on a roll and soldiered on about them being mates and took blame for that as well. It made the Hale blink because he thought blaming himself for everything was his job.  
  
The subject was too serious for him to want to have it lying down so he slowly sat up, taking the few seconds to run through all that had been said. They were both not awake enough for this, but maybe that's why Stiles had to ask, because Derek wouldn't be able to avoid it with a sleepy brain.

"I knew what you were to me years ago, Stiles. I wasn't ready for it then, neither were you." Wolves had a choice, there was no such thing as having to accept a potential mate, many were one and Derek had thought by moving away he would move on. Probably would have if their paths hadn't crossed again this year. "We both didn't consciously pick this bond. If anything, I should have said no to us having sex because I should have known what would happen."  
  
This wasn't what the real issue was though, the issue was if they wanted to continue it or not. Licking his dry lips, he shrugged. "You were always it for me. For life doesn't sound long enough." A human life was short, it wasn't going to be enough for them. For him. Because he had noticed the way Stiles avoided to say how he felt about being Derek's mate, he blamed himself for it happening, he didn't sound too happy from it all. "If it's not what you want, if it's not for you anytime down the road for us, you don't have to stay. You're not stuck with me if you don't want to." Because he'd love Stiles enough to set him free. Always.

The air of relief rushed into Stiles’ lungs, making him a bit dizzy. Derek said nothing happened against his will... Stiles tried very hard to believe that, but the light-green eyes were dead serious and honest and he eventually did accept that. He could also _feel_ it that it was no lie. It made breathing a bit easier for a few seconds. Derek was right again. Stiles would've stopped the ritual to face his own madness or death before he would ever force himself on Derek like this – or anyone else, for that matter. It just wasn't in his nature to be so selfish and evil. He cared about others and their feelings too much for that. Especially when those people were the ones he felt close to him and loved.  
  
Then that relief turned into utter shock. "You knew...?" he whispered a little broken as he forced himself to sit up too, the cover falling into his lap. The loss of its warmth made him shiver, goose bumps breaking out all over his pale mole-dotted skin. Or perhaps it was also because of this huge revelation. "I think you're right. We weren't ready... Is that why you... tried to close me out and push me away... to intimidate me?" he asked, brown eyes drifting to Derek's naked collarbone as flashes of memories came back to him. Derek slamming him into hard surfaces, threatening his life on multiply occasions but never really hurting him (aside from slamming his head into the jeep's wheel for the Miguel thing). Because there’s been a... spark between them even back then, but nothing ever came out of it aside from some loaded looks and stolen, shortly lingering touches on safe body parts.  
  
_'You were always it for me. For life doesn't sound long enough.'_ That right there blew Stiles' mind away, making his heart beat erratically, and a couple of teardrops finally slid down on his pale face, which struggled with an attempt to blush properly. He blinked rapidly a few times and sniffed, reaching out to slide his hand in the warmer one. He just... needed the comfort of physical touch and the warmth that radiated from Derek to stop feeling so insecure and push down the doubt that's been plaguing his mind since last night.  
  
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Stiles wheezed with wide eyes. "I want you. I always wanted you and being your Mate and Emissary is like... seriously the biggest honor to me! I want it more than I ever wanted anything. To be with you. To be yours. To help you and your pack. To be to whom you turn to for whatever reason. Do you have any idea...?" he started then cut himself off to take a few deep breaths. "Besides... I'll probably age slower and live longer than an average human," he shrugged with a small smile, which turned into a flinch from his flaring up muscles and joints. But his fingers did squeeze Derek's hand, the tips then gently sliding up to trace the scarred over rune. He could feel the magic pulsing just under the skin, ready to be called upon.

"And you carrying this mark of _us_... it's... I don't know... such a huge relief to me, not because of you saving me, but because you want it. You want me... You _really_ want me just as much..." he let the tears of relief flow freely by then as he sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his other hand. It was far from sexy, but Stiles didn't care.  
  
_Derek wanted him back_. With the whole baggage and magic and annoying habits. He didn't want to change him. He just wanted what all of Stiles was. The good and the bad. No one ever wanted him like that. No one.

Stiles was pushy and stubborn, he'd needle and yammer on about something and would do it no matter what others said if he thought it was the right thing. In his need for answers, in his need he'd barrel over emotions and sensitive topics without realizing he was trampling right over a person. But when it came down to it, when it was about consent in a deeper meaning, he wouldn't do it, he might start on it in his quest for answers but he'd realize at a quick point he shouldn't. Stiles could kill, for those he loved, if it came down to it, but yeah, Derek firmly believed there was a line to what the human would do.  
  
But that pushiness wouldn't have been good when Stiles had been seventeen years old and Derek an adult, it would have turned him into another Kate Argent. As much as Derek knew what he didn't like, back then, if he had admitted how he felt, Stiles would have pushed about losing his virginity. He would have tried to get Derek to go further than he wanted it to go and the Hale hadn't been ready for it.

"You were too young, I had other things to worry about." Stiles hadn't even realized what kind of boundaries he had been constantly crossing, besides the few on purpose, which Derek had punished him for by slamming his head against the steering wheel, gently. By the time they had gone from hating to sorta liking, the wolf had been fully invested in keeping it a friendship. "It doesn't have to be a thing. I knew of the potential, I opted to ignore it." A choice he never had regretted, despite constantly smelling arousal on Stiles when around him. "It didn't matter to me if you were ready or not, I wasn't." Part of him maybe never was going to be ready to accept people in his life whom he could lose, to let them matter enough to be family. Ready or not though, that's what happened.  
  
Their hands entwined but Derek didn't mention the tears wetting the pale cheeks, ignoring them because he wouldn't want it to be pointed out if the situation would have been reversed. He also didn't mention that it was unlikely Stiles would turn older than a regular human being, with his tendency to be part of danger, they'd be lucky to make it past fifty. Maybe the human was glorifying it a little too much, maybe too caught up on the amazing sex they had to look beyond what it was going to mean. Sure, the idea of an alpha with a daughter building a pack in the hometown where his father also lived, that had its appeal. But Derek had even more of a problematic past than before and he felt like maybe the other didn't realize what he was signing up for.  
  
"It's not going to be easy. I won't start opening up to you more because of the bonds, I won't be magically healed of everything. Some days I'll want to have sex all day, other days a touch might be too much. I suck at communicating still, and you'll be in danger all the time. I will always protect you, but I can't keep you in a bubble." Of course he knew Stiles wasn't easy either. His ADD mind was hard to keep track of, he was a master in getting under the skin with remarks, he'd connect things so fast he'd forget the emotions involved to finish his puzzle. He had PTSD as well and panic attacks and was annoyingly into bossing everybody around. But yeah, Derek accepted it all, he didn't want it to change.

Stiles stayed quiet for a couple of heartbeats to quickly think Derek's words through. Meanwhile he wiped at his face with his free hand, the other in the wolf's bigger one. "Fair enough," he sniffed. "Looking back, I can see how it wasn't a coincidence that it took us so long to get here. We had to live through certain things beforehand. I am also very much aware that it won't be easy for many reasons. Internal and external," he looked seriously into the green eyes. Despite his aching muscles, he sat a bit straighter and looked more mature and collected. He certainly wasn't his teen self from the past. Life had hardened him too.  
  
"But know this, Derek... I have no doubt in my mind and heart about wanting to be your Mate and Emissary. I know it entails danger and many life-threatening situations. I'm not stupid and frankly, I'm used to it. I'm also aware that us being bonded isn't the remedy to everything that had happened to you or me. We carry those wounds and scars, probably for the rest of our lives. Which is fine. On some we can work, others will stay forever as part of us. We already talked about the communication part and we both gonna need some space at times," he shrugged, rubbing Derek's fingers absentmindedly. "I don't mind. I dare to think that by now I can read your expressions quite well," he chuckled softly.  
  
"I will always try to protect you too, but I don't expect you to keep me in a bubble. On one hand that's impossible, on the other I don't want that. I want to get stronger, to learn to protect you, the pack and myself better. I have most of the physical training already, but I will need the magical one too. That's why I asked Deaton to see him if I survived last night. I texted him once you fell asleep, so he knows. I didn't know who else to call. I knew my witch friend wasn't going to be able to help with this, so I reached out to Deaton. After explaining the situation to him, for once he wasn't cryptic and told me what we will have to do once you got here. I know I would've died if you didn't accept and helped me so thank you for that," he whispered by the end, lightly squeezing the other man's hand.

"And thank you for accepting me the way I am. I accept you like that too, Derek. And I think from here we can build on that. It's gonna take some time until we figure out everything and I'm sure we're gonna fight a lot too," he smiled a bit amused from the thought. It was inevitable because they usually bickered anyway and often had different opinions. "But looking back at our past, I also believe we can get past everything _together_. There's a reason why I was drawn to you and you saw the potential Mate in me. Not to mention the Emissary thing. I'll have to learn a lot about my magic, my new tasks... about 𝑦𝑜𝑢 and what we have, because I don't want to fuck up any of it. I believe, now I'm ready for all this," he finished, knowing that Derek would be able to tell that he was saying the truth and he meant every word.

𝑇𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝘩𝑖𝑚 𝑖𝑓 𝐼 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡. Those words stuck out to Derek, realized how close a call it had been and nobody had bothered to call him to make sure he knew time was important. Not Stiles, not Deaton. He could have been there soon for the ritual to make it less painful, he should have been there before it got painful at all! And yeah, he had felt Stiles had been bad off, he had felt that there wasn't much time once he had his mate in his arms but it would have been nice to know.

"Next time you're dying, lead with that." Sure, he understood why not, why it hadn't been mentioned, because Stiles hadn't wanted Derek to make the choice only to save his life. Which was bullshit. He would do anything to keep him alive, everything.  
  
They had both fucked up, they didn't know enough and should have made informed decisions after the bonds, should have known it wasn't done. This was on Derek as much as it was on Stiles and it scared him. Sitting here, talking, when last night could have gone completely different. They both could have died.  
  
"I'm not ready," he admitted. They weren't ready at all, and they had to be ready. Before they'd mess it up again. If he needed to be high on magic from time to time until Stiles had gotten it under control, well, that wasn't the worst of it. However, a life in danger because of them being idiots wasn't acceptable. "I'm ready for you, for us. We're not ready for what we created. We're going to Deaton, today, and make sure we know what we need to learn, what we need to know so this..." he motioned to the rune on his arm "doesn't become life or death again."

Death became part of their lives, he had stopped freaking out over himself dying a long time ago because he had accepted that it was going to happen. Most likely sooner than he'd like. Dying so many times made it sort of a weary acceptance; he didn't get cocky because he came back so often. He wasn't taking it for granted. Luck was going to run out at some point, that's what it had been all this time, pure dumb luck to not die from things he should have died of. Others who had healed him, helped him. But the death of Stiles, his mate, a human who was too young to die, that freaked him out.  
  
Derek didn't want to be responsible for yet another death, he couldn't have another one on his conscience. There wasn't going to be a _we_ if they kept half-assing it, if he... He should have known better. And it wasn't going to be his mistake again. "If you had died..."

"But I didn't. _And I’m not going to_! I... we gonna make sure of it," Stiles said, sliding closer to Derek so he could put his free hand on a muscular thigh, slightly leaning on it for support and to be able to get a bit closer too. The warmth and closeness of his mate's body seemed to ease some of the coldness settled in Stiles' bones and he breathed a bit easier. "Yes, we fucked up for not researching this before we parted ways. I guess it was because we both got overwhelmed and maybe even a bit scared of the intensity of this. I didn't realize with certainty until last night that we have a Mate bond too, so that's on you. The not talking to Deaton sooner about the new Emissary bond and my slipping control on my Spark and letting this drag out this long, that's purely on me. Also for not asking you to come sooner or saying how serious it was getting. But I can _feel_ that you know why I didn't pressure you like that..." Stiles sent a knowing look at him. Yes, he didn't want to make Derek do this just to survive, leaving him with no other choice. He wanted to leave Derek with a choice – which has been robbed from him so many times in his life. "But fair enough, next time I won't hold such things back from you."  
  
The instinctual pang of hurt caused by Derek saying he was not ready quickly faded and some warmth filled him as the wolf continued. Stiles decided to think his reply through again instead of letting the words tumble out unfiltered like so many times in the past.

"You also might be right, we are not ready for what these bonds unlocked and keeps unlocking in us. I can feel that too, that it's far from done yet," he nodded in agreement. "We do have to learn as much about the bonds as possible to stay balanced and then we discover the rest on our own as I believe each bond must be unique too because there are no two similar bonds and pairs. I know virtually nothing about these things, though, because I only dabbled in magic training so far and this is highly advanced magic. I'm sure I'll struggle with it for a while until I master my part of it, but I'll do everything in my might not to be half-assed about it and to succeed. I usually don't do things half-assed anyway. I want us and everyone around us safe. Not just from external threats, but from us too as I know enough how dangerous unstable magic can be and that it could affect you too. And if _you_ died, I would literally go out of my freaking mind, so let's not do either version, okay?" he reached up to caress Derek's stubbly face.  
  
"Yes, we should go to Deaton today. That's a good idea considering what just went down and not knowing yet how to keep the magic stable. Although being near you definitely helps in many ways," he smiled reassuringly at Derek. "Bathroom and shower and food before that, though, if you don't want me to pee in your car and faint on you too," he teased, a spark of his normal self showing again.

Sure, he was all for them not dying at all, would prefer it even but it wasn't a promise either one of them could make. Taking Stiles' hand, he nuzzled into it before he pulled away. They had lounged in bed long enough, much to be done before they could be in the car.

"Bathroom and packing a bag for you. I'll make food, you eat then you shower. I don't feel like a trip to the ER." Knowing Stiles, he'd slip and fall and crack his skull open or open up his arm, something bloody and not good at least. Derek hadn't even unpacked anything, his bag was near the door, dropped when he had to catch the human last night.  
  
Smiling from the way Derek nuzzled his hand, one of Stiles' brows shot up, the smile turning into a grin. "Okay, I see you kicked into alpha mode now. I'm too tired to protest, though, so I'll give this to you," the human quirked and leaned in to steal a peck from Derek's lips before he collected his strength to move off the bed too.  
  
Not even bothering with clothes, Derek searched for his phone to make sure there were no missed updates about Elizabeth before he pushed it back in the jeans he was going to wear soon enough. He could use a shower himself, update on the freshness of his body. Trotting to the small kitchen in his underwear, he did a quick inventory of what was all there. Not much. No way to make pancakes but there was enough for a meal. Soon enough the smells of cooked food was filling the apartment while the alpha grumbled about the distinct lack of so much.  
  
Once Stiles was alone in the room and he forced his body to move towards the bathroom, he was thinking about how much better this heart-to-heart talk went than he expected. He wanted this. Being able to talk openly about things, even if the catalyst for this "session" was another near death experience. Hopefully they can be more subtle than that in the future...  
  
That made him chuckle a bit to himself along with the grumbling and rattling from the kitchen. He could totally get used to this... And maybe in the near future he'll get the opportunity, because yes, the bonds complicated things considerably and would require from them to find a solution to their... life situation faster than planned. Stiles was already thinking about calling in sick for the next week as he finally relieved his bladder and then washed his teeth. Both added to his comfort significantly. The packing went slower than he would've liked, but ignoring the pain in his body didn't mean he would be able to move normally.  
  
Half an hour later the table was set with a plate of bacon, a plate of scrambled eggs, French toast still hot and simple normal toasted bread. There had been old stale regular donuts which he had put in the oven to make them edible again and most importantly, coffee. Good strong coffee. Derek didn't agree with the coffee brand, but since Stiles was the kind of guy to like Starbucks, he couldn't blame him for the bad taste.

"Sit and eat," he called out to the human still in the bedroom to pack belongings. Probably packing more than for the weekend, which wasn't a bad plan. This might take longer than the day they would have, they might even reconsider the plan of taking time to have the younger man move to Beacon Hills. Of course they couldn't do anything normal, they had to be outside of the norm completely.

Stiles just finished with his bag and put fresh clothes on the bed for after the shower when he heard Derek's command. "Alright, alright, chill, you big bad wolf, I'm coming!" he yelled back quite amused and feeling in a bit better mood. Okay, the coming was more like shuffling out into the kitchen and carefully sitting down. "Wow! Smells amazing. I could get used to this," he echoed his previous thought and put a bit from everything on his plate before digging in.

"Thanks," he mumbled, washing down a bite with some coffee, eyes darting up to Derek's form. "I texted my boss that I'm sick, so I'm free for the next week as I don't know how long I'll have to be back in Beacon Hills," he informed Derek, munching on a beacon. Frankly, his stomach couldn't decide after the first few bites of food if it hated the idea or not, but Stiles kept eating, knowing that he would need the energy.

The food was carefully selected, because eggs and meat had protein, the French toast had carbs and sugar, all things needed to help a body heal from nearly dying. If Satomi had been still alive, he might have gotten in touch with her to discuss the use of herbs to maintain a body dealing with magic. She had been so wise in that kind of knowledge. Deaton knew a lot about it too so he made a mental note to ask him. Stiles maybe was an expert at hovering over his father's healthy food intake but he certainly didn't apply that to himself. If anything, he deemed fries a good kind of dinner for many times a week. That was going to change. Derek didn't mind cooking, but never had found it important enough, never had the time for it. Never had a real kitchen for it. But then he had a kid now and food became a daily happening he had to deal with. Though he still ate protein bars since there was never much time to eat with a toddler.  
  
He didn't like the shuffling happening, Stiles was still in pain, which was apparent with the way he was sitting down stiffly. Waiting for the human to load up his plate, he followed swiftly, he was hungry.

"Eat some toast first, it helps settle the empty stomach before the rest of the food." The rest was greasy besides the eggs, and Stiles didn't look all that happy with having to eat. He remembered that food had been the most difficult for him when he had been losing his powers. His stomach was upset a lot and had been picky about what foods it tolerated. Now it wasn't something he had to worry about, he could eat everything or nothing and still have no stomach problems. Werewolves ate a lot, especially after having to heal.  
  
"We'll see what Deaton has to say about a time frame." A week seemed like a lot of time but to master control over magic and bonds? That was more like months of training and Stiles couldn't even be a traditional emissary, he was way too involved with Derek and possible pack to be impartial. It was however something very similar, more like a druid with strong magic. "We'll do whatever is needed to keep you alive. Maybe you can get unpaid leave for a while if that's going to be a problem."

Money wasn't an issue, although he hated flaunting it. Barely used it because he didn't need more than having his basic needs met. It was a good thing though, finding work with a criminal record was near impossible, didn't matter that most of the accusations had been dismissed. Derek never had much of a normal job so if it came down to having to find one, it would be interesting. He'd do it, of course he'd do it, but he was glad he didn't need to.

For a change Stiles actually listened to Derek and dropping the half-eaten bacon back on his plate, he reached for the toast to munch on that instead. It showed how tired he really was. Watching the other man while drinking some apple juice too, he hummed.  
  
"To keep us both alive, Derek. I don't want to accidentally hurt you with my magic. Elizabeth needs you even more than I do. I have to think of her too now," he frowned to himself, dropping his gaze to the table, forcing himself to eat more from the toast. He had to get back on his feet fast and learn as much as possible. Quickly. He had to get used to the fact that it wasn't just Derek who became a big part of his life but by default Elizabeth too since he was Derek's daughter. They weren't just simply dating. They literally leaped over many steps with the double bond and it carried more changes for both of them than Stiles first thought. Not that he minded having the little girl in his life too now. She was adorable and he already loved her. It was just another big change he had to wrap his mind around. He was ‘Daddy Sty’ now.  
  
That made him pause with the half-eaten toast hanging from his mouth. Not the way he thought he would 'become a dad', but he didn't oppose the idea. Of course, for now it was just a title she liked to call him, it would take more time for both him and Derek to think of him as her other father (or of them as a family) since they were at the very beginning of their relationship. But yes, he was going to be a dad too, not just a mate and emissary... A small silly smile curled around the bread in his mouth then he continued eating, trying some egg too. Neither could have known at the beginning that the 'grandpa Noah' title was going to become a real one as well...  
  
"I'm not stupid, I know it will take longer than a week to learn everything I have to as magic is complicated and a lot of work. I've got a taste of that before too. But hopefully Deaton will be able to teach me the basics about how to keep it balanced and under control without hurting you or myself or anyone around us," Stiles talked around a bite before swallowing it and drinking some more juice. "Otherwise yeah, an unpaid leave is in the cards too. During the week I've already started mapping out my options regarding my work here. But I'm ready to give it up in favor of being with and helping you and the future pack. If that's what it takes," he said seriously. "And please don't see this option like sacrificing my life for you and my future duties back at Beacon Hills. It is my choice. And my home will be where you and Elizabeth are, Derek. It's _my choice_ ," he repeated. "Now eat too. You've got whammied by my magic pretty hard last night too. Huh! Are you hangover? At least a bit?" he raised a brow curiously.

The fact that Stiles was willing to count Elizabeth as somebody he needed to think about put Derek more at ease. They hadn't even talked about her and Stiles' willingness to be part of her life. She was part of Derek, she came with him when there was a relationship but that didn't mean the new partner was willing to make an effort for a child. It would be an automatic assumption the Hale hadn't been willing to make, more along the lines of we'll see. He wouldn't even have introduced them so early on if Derek hadn't been living with Noah, if they hadn't bonded, if they weren't making commitments for life a week into dating. Beth took it all in stride, though. First came grandpa Noah, then Stiles who she had dubbed daddy Sty very quickly since the human smelled of daddy so to her that was clear.  
  
They had known one another for many years, they had a couple years of no contact at all and now they were not just boyfriends. They moved fast, probably to many it was too fast but Derek didn't care. They would do it their way. Obviously a lot was going through Stiles' mind if that small smile was anything to go by, and not for the first time, the werewolf was glad he couldn't read minds, especially that mind.  
  
Arching his eyebrows, he honestly doubted Stiles would even know the basics in a week. Deaton might be willing to teach but that didn't mean the man would be easier to understand. With magic there came herbs and spells and rituals, there might not even be basics, since it was all connected. Sure, there was no McCall pack anymore for Deaton to guide but the man had his own work too. Though the eyebrows were more because of the whole 'my choice' thing. Derek hadn't said anything. He had offered for Stiles to remain in San Francisco and for them to work it out somehow and the human hadn't been interested in that so he knew it wasn't his fault. If Stiles wanted to come back to Beacon Hills, he wasn't going to object to that.  
  
"If a headache counts as part of a hangover, then yes." It was curious his body hadn't healed it, but it wasn't an injury, it was a left over from the magic. And he didn't feel like breaking his arm to trigger the healing to get rid of a simple headache, it would fade on its own. Cutting into the French toast, Derek pointedly took a bite to show he was eating. "Usually I don't have them." But then, usually if somebody carved into his skin, it wouldn't turn into a scar either.

Stiles noticed the 'eyebrow dance', of course and waited for Derek to object in any way against his choice. He was ready to stare the alpha down, but in the end, nothing came just acceptance, so Stiles dully aching muscles relaxed and he smiled to himself behind the last of his toast before he stuffed it all in his mouth and munched on it happier, his appetite coming back unnoticeable to him as he next ate more eggs and continued his half-eaten bacon too. He stopped himself from uttering a 'good boy' comment from seeing Derek finally starting to eat too.  
  
He could also sense Derek's doubting feelings through the mate bond, but it didn't make him feel sad or hurt, it only strengthened his resolve. He knew the basics of magic. Not just the practical but the theoretical part too. He knew it was much more complicated than spells and tricks. But Derek didn't know that about Stiles. He only mentioned dabbling in it, but his witch friend made sure that he would have a solid base onto which Stiles could build with time. Of course, his Spark and the emissary thing are going to probably entail many different things as they were different in nature from a witch's magic which this friend knew. Stiles was determined, though. He was going to do his best to make Derek and himself proud. Even if it is going to come with pain, blood, sweat and tears.  
  
"Happy to give you things no other can," Stiles chuckled, his eyes glimpsing down at the scarred rune on the muscular forearm for a second, also thinking of their new bonds. "I'm special to you in more ways than one, admit it," he teased, feeling a bit more like himself as the food started to work in his system. He even slid a naked leg over under the table to brush it against Derek's a few times then he just left it there to let them touch, the little extra connection making him feel more at ease too.  
  
"You're very special," Derek agreed with an easy snark, their bickering familiar territory which he fell into with a comfortable grin. Of course it wasn't the way Stiles meant it but he wasn't that open with his feelings all the time. Everything they did was special to him, from kissing to quietly sitting in the car to exploring their bodies. A jolt ran into his body at their naked skin touching, feeling the body hair brush against his but it was more a lazy kind of rush of arousal, the acknowledgement of them touching. Usually it was the universal sign for the beginning of flirting but Stiles looked ready to fall over so the human wasn't going to tempt him.  
  
Stiles only grinned from Derek’s reply then he looked more serious. "Back to the Beth topic... Are you okay with me being in her life so soon? I mean... our situation is obviously complicated, but I love her being around, even with the cock-blocking moments," he grinned, remembering a few times that happened while he was back in town. Then his expression got more serious. "I also respect your relationship with her. I don't want to barge in. I obviously don't have much experience in raising kids and I know you have established boundaries for her, so... I guess I just want you to know that I'll try not to overstep, but I'd also like to be there for her. To be someone who's a constant presence in her life, whom she can trust and turn to, if she needs that. It's a huge change for all three of us and probably too soon as well, but I know you are the 'authority' figure in her life, her real dad, so just... let me know if I shouldn't do or say something. I won't take it on me as I'm going into this practically blind and have to learn this too."

Sipping coffee, Derek listened and sighed because it was too late to take back if it was too soon to be in Beth's life. The child wouldn't understand it if they'd undo it, it wouldn't be for her sake anymore, it would be to do the right thing as society viewed it. The whole Lydia situation was already complicated so he wanted to give her some stability with the others in her life.

"She smelled that our scents have mingled, so to her you're pack. It's instinct which I can't change, even if I wanted to." With Noah it had been different, the sheriff took them in when Derek was unable to care for her properly, stepped up and helped out and that made him family to her.  
  
"I don't know what I'm doing either. She was a baby when we were taken to Hell. I protected her but she grew up anyways and those years I focused on shielding her, not raising her." He went with it, learning as the days passed, not even knowing when she was old enough to go to school. Probably next year or so. Melissa and Noah had been his main source in helping him know what to do and the rest? Well, maybe he was a natural with kids, despite everything. "I know how to raise her as pack, but we Hales always stuck to ourselves so human help would be good." The Hale family hadn't been part of society much, it was why the house had been in the preserve, away from others. A big family of werewolves and humans was better off away from curious eyes, away from hunter eyes.  
  
"You'll need earplugs though. For her banshee screams." They didn't ruin human hearing but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Hearing Derek's thoughts on the matter eased some tension in Stiles’ chest and he felt relieved. Both from finally talking about this important topic too, and from the wolf accepting his involvement – even needing his human perspective.

"I can totally help you with adding the human side of things into her raising, plus my dad and Melissa will be around too at times, I believe," he nodded with a smile, drinking some of his by then lukewarm coffee. But he didn't mind. It was a good way to wash down the food he had managed to consume in the end.  
  
Stiles thought it was going to be an interesting experience for him too. Watching the little girl growing up as he lives with two werewolves. Maybe one day it might be a bit similar to the pack environment too in which Derek had lived before the fire. Stability, safety in numbers and protected. For real this time, because they'll have a 'live-in' emissary with powerful magic and wards. Stiles will make sure that his top priority will be learning (and maybe with time coming up with his own) protective wards and spells because their safety will be the most important in his life. He was already itching to go to Deaton to learn and research everything he is going to be able to put his hands on.  
  
"I don't mind the earplugs. Or maybe I'll be able to use my magic for that purpose on me," he chuckled. "She'll also learn with time how to control it the best she can. I'm sure about it. I'll totz look into banshee lore deeper," he promised and drank the rest of his coffee before placing the Assassin's Creed mug back on the table, staring at the Eye of Horus under the franchise's logo. "And Derek..." he glimpsed up into his eyes with a warm smile. "Thank you. I appreciate. I know how important she is to you."  
  
It was one of the many reasons it wasn't so unusual to have human pack members, they brought their own to the pack and sometimes the werewolf gene simply skipped a generation. It was hard to say if it would be human or werewolf until birth, but the werewolf gene was the dominant one. Humans from outside were harder to introduce into a pack, they didn't understand, it would often cause problems. But Derek had to start over anyways with a pack, which meant it would be easier for Stiles to get used to the behavior which came with it. The pack was no doubt going to be mostly bitten werewolves and those would act differently anyways. His thoughts unknowingly equaled those of the human.  
  
"We should look into the Hale vaults, see if there's books there we can use. I've gone through most of the items in there since I came back to Beacon Hills after Laura had passed, but not all of the books." Derek knew a lot about the supernatural through the books, could see more than bitten werewolves could because he was trained but Banshee lore hadn't been a priority. He had known more than enough to deal with Lydia, however somebody as young as Elizabeth was different. Usually Banshees weren't werewolves, they were immune to the bite.  
  
After the eggs and a donut and some bacon, he was full so he started to gather the leftovers to take with them in case Stiles needed energy on their way home, pausing when Stiles gave him a serious thank you. "She is. So are you." He put the donuts and toasts in a plastic bag and threw the rest in the bin which he told himself he had to empty later so the younger man wouldn't return to an apartment stinking like rotting food.

"Alright, daddy wolf," he suddenly grinned, knowing that Derek wasn't that used to being thanked for his trust (or just in general). "Breakfast was divine and literally a life-saver. The talk was nice too, but we have a long trip and a lot of things ahead of us. I'm gonna help you clean up here then we go take a shower together and no, before your mind goes into the gutter, not to sex you up, but because I don't want to fall flat on my face and get a concussion or worse. You are also permitted to wash my back and kiss me," he joked, but behind that it was a way from Stiles to admit that he might need some help under the water.

There was a half-insulted look thrown to the babbling man when he first invited Derek for a shower and then accused him of only having one thing on the mind. "You look half-dead, keeping it from going to sex is going to be near impossible now." Sarcasm laced his tone.  
  
Of course he'd help, if Stiles went as far as jokingly asked for shower company, then the chance of him slipping in the shower wasn't as far-fetched. And he wasn't going to sit in a car for over three hours with a smelly companion. "I don't know about kissing you, it might overwhelm you," he lightly teased, taking the plates to the sink, not allowing Stiles to do anything.

Stiles took the non-verbal hint and just sat there for a minute longer to watch _his man_ packing in the moderate kitchen. He loved the sight and he was also beaming, too happy about hearing from Derek that he was important to him too than to work himself up on what followed afterwards. He still had a lovesick lopsided grin on his face when he eventually answered.  
  
"Oh, didn't know corpses turn you on. Then it's not clear from last night if you wanted to fuck me or save me. I believe I looked more than half-dead back then," he shot back with a soft chuckle. "But I'll take that risk of getting overwhelmed by that kiss," he teased right back then sighed and pulled himself together a bit, starting to slowly get up from his chair.  
  
"It was hard to hold back last night." Big words for a man barely remembering what he had said, let alone done but from the looks and sounds of it, they hadn't done anything but fall asleep in exhaustion. Not much of a high for the wolf, not that he was looking forward to being drugged out of his mind, not as intense as it had been at least. He did remember how Stiles had looked in his arms though when he opened the door. More dead than alive, not exactly a look to get the Hale interested.  
  
"Seriously... I feel like an old man," Stiles huffed more to himself from the way his joints and muscles still tried to protest once he was standing. Briefly he wondered if Derek felt similarly after coming back from Hell, but he didn't want to bring that up right now. He needed that hot shower and soon.

"It's a good idea checking the vault's books," Stiles' mind circled back to Derek's previous comment. His mind usually could think about things in parallel and for many it often got confusing how Stiles tended to switch between topics within the same sentence too. But he had noticed that Derek could follow him most of the time and he also got used to it during the years. "I remember briefly seeing some books there... among quite a few bizarre things while we hid there with Scott, Kira and Malia during the virus infection at school. Never got the chance to really look around, though..." he mused, already excited about the possibility of doing so and learning more about the Hale family's secrets. For someone so thirsty for knowledge like Stiles, such a place was like a treasure chamber.  
  
"Hopefully we'll find something useful about banshees and other creatures too. Just to be prepared. I'll also have to dive into pack lore and dynamics and all... But I'm sure Deaton has books on that too. But I'd like to become acquainted with your family's history too now that I'm more pack than ever before..." he shot a hopeful look at Derek. As their pack emissary, he would have to know virtually everything about the Hales to know how to prepare and avoid nasty surprises in the future. Of course it all depended on how much Derek was willing to share with him. (Well... the rest Stiles was going to trick out of him one way or another, because this was going to be about the pack's safety too. After all, neither of them wanted some kind of a repeat of the fire.)  
  
Derek washed the plates and Stiles chatted on, which made him smile to himself, his back was turned to the human. There was something familiar about the way Stiles would talk endlessly, accepting Derek's short sentences and silences easily without a problem, instead reading his body language and facial expressions. He remembered that time though. He had been at the hospital with Satomi and Braeden at the time. "There's more than one vault." He casually informed the human just as he was shuffling his way back to the bedroom to get to the bathroom.  
  
There was no real answer to the family history, there was some info in the vault but not much since most of the papers had been at the house when it burned down. Though he suspected there was some information out there because Peter had known more than usual, enough to give a detailed history report about the Hales to Meredith, unknowingly. But still, that was something he must have read. It was important, the history, he knew that, he hadn't been that ready to get into it, to acknowledge the names of the ones lost to the fire. But now, with Elizabeth, she should know some day what her family had been like. So they should get into it in the near future, get things written down again.  
  
Winking at Derek, the human turned around and carefully headed for the door, leaving behind his previously hastily put on boxers on the floor when he was half-way out of the kitchen. It was high time for that shower, so he headed there right away, ignoring the limited energy in his physical body. One step at a time, right?  
  
And he was right. When he finally got there, the hot spray on his back felt wonderful to his sore muscles!

***

The werewolf followed after Stiles not long after, taking his bag to dump it on the bed before he got rid of the underwear. Of course the spaz was already under the warm stream and there wasn't much room for the muscular 6' body.

"Keeping my hands to myself is going to be impossible in your shower box." Still, he stepped into the stall while Stiles took up most of the spray. "I made a bigger shower in the loft." Good thinking in hindsight.

 _Another vault?_ Stiles’ mind was still reeling around this casually dropped information while under the shower because he found that very intriguing and he kept trying to guess where it was and what relics of the past could they contain, but he was distracted by a very naked Derek Hale somehow managing to get behind him. It was a tight fit indeed, but he didn't mind the closeness of the wider and warmer body at all.  
  
"Wise choice. You're too muscular for my shower," he grinned, flipping water from his hair into Derek's face before he turned to face him, steadying himself with taking hold of a said rope of muscles on the other man's arm, his other hand reaching up to slick his own hair back, a playful little smile playing on his lips as he reached for the shower gel and handed it to Derek. "So I suggest you don't keep your hands to yourself then. You can start with my back, please," Stiles stole a soft peck before turning his tattooed back to Derek again, enjoying the warm water and the accumulating steam.  
  
There really wasn't much room to do anything... serious in there, plus he wasn't in the state yet either, but some caresses and maybe a bit of a massage from his mate would definitely feel good. Not that he could tell exactly how Derek would react. Maybe he would simply ignore his request, which was fine too, although Stiles had to realize that he longed physical contact (and not just from the dirty kind) with the wolf more too. Now he could pinpoint that feeling easier. It was probably another effect of the bonds. Or more like the mate bond.  
  
If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could kinda feel and see the different threads coming out of them, connecting their souls and bodies in their chest area. Both set had a different color in his mind. The emissary bond's was a darker orange, nearly red; while the mate bond's the vibrant and bright gold. As he mentally traced his current need to be touched and petted to calm the subconscious (and very much physical) strain which was put on him more and more during his struggle, he could single out that golden strand. He knew from that that this need was amplified by the closeness of his mate – so in conclusion, it was mate bond related.

That was new, too muscular for the shower. Maybe Derek shouldn't gain the lost weight back or they would never fit in this coffin of a shower. But there was something to be said about being pressed together like this. Stiles couldn't slip and fall and it was warm for the younger man. An amused grin curled Derek’s lips when he was handed the shower gel with the prompt to wash the back. He loved the cocky bossiness even though he wouldn't say it out loud. He didn't need to, Stiles knew, that intelligent hyperactive brain had picked up on it with too much ease.  
  
Warming the gel in his hands, he started at the shoulders, knowing the moment he'd touch the ink covering that pale back, the magic would flare up again. His thumbs rubbed gentle circles along the moles before his fingers pressed deeper to warm the muscles from the inside out. It was the best way to get the ache and strain to be released since they were acting like they would from a too intense work out.

"You've grown muscles of your own too, you know." Stiles wasn't the young skinny teenager anymore, he had grown up and hardened, muscles more defined even though they had been there when he had been seventeen as well. Skilled hands worked their way down, ignoring the tattoo even though the tendrils of ember enticed him to touch. He wasn't going to start something they weren't up for at the moment.  
  
It was true, Stiles did manage to pack some muscles on himself during his training and the regular work outs he's been doing. Lacrosse was a good foundation to build on. But he was never going to be able to look 'too buff' because of his lean built and muscles. His body was more of an athlete's than a body builder's. Not that he minded, he had accepted such things a long time ago and was fine with his body. Apparently Derek was very fine with it too...  
  
Derek could sense the pain under his fingertips, nearly thrumming for him to pull it out and why not. He was healed, he had slept, the magic bond was settled so he could take it easily. The black of the pain moved along his fingers into his arm and dissolved into his body, warming Stiles as much as the massage did with the muscles.  
  
The skin had so many moles that he could play connect the dots there to probably make for an intricate drawing befitting of who Stiles was. He had read that humans would still develop new moles as the years passed so there were going to be more added on. "I want to draw on you."

Stiles closed his eyes with a small smile the second he felt Derek's fingers on his shoulders, the careful washing and massaging making him moan satisfied a couple of times. He had noticed how the big hands avoided his back tattoo and understood why. He wouldn't be ready now for one of those mind-blowing and magic-laced matings they had before. He loved how this more mature Derek was so considerate with him.  
  
As his muscles started to warm up and relax, he felt the by then familiar sensation of a werewolf pulling his pain away, making him sigh with relief. He had a high pain tolerance – which was probably why Stiles lasted as long as last night with his uncontrolled magic – and never asked or liked when Scott or someone else used this wolf trick on him, but now it felt nice to get a little break. It was even nicer how he could focus better on Derek like this.  
  
His comment made Stiles smile with closed eyes. He had a hunch that Derek was kinda fascinated with his moles, which he found cute and kinda hot. "You can. Any time you want. I've got them from my mom," he whispered. This way a part of her was always with Stiles.

He pressed a forearm against the tiled wall of the shower to lean on it a bit and expose more of his back to Derek. Despite his tiredness, his body seemed to have a mind of its own, because Stiles realized he was half-hard just from the closeness and touches of his mate. Not that he minded it, he was often half-hard around Derek. He even kinda enjoyed the lazily unfurling and shimmering lust in his belly, looking forward for those hands to reach around him and start washing his front too, but knew his man wasn't done with his backside yet.  
  
"Keep touching me, Derek. It feels so good," he added softly, lost in the spell he slipped under. It wasn't his. It happened purely because of one gorgeous and caring Hale behind him, making not just body but his heart and soul warm up too.

The body was always amazing in its own way. He didn't really care what kind of a body type his partners had. Though if he was honest, there was a slight fascination with the softer bodies, the way fat would pack on and make everything look rounder and softer. But in the end, he didn't care what Stiles looked like as long as he was healthy. Derek took care of his own body not because he wanted to look like a sculpted Greek god, as so many referred him as, but because the leaner he was, the stronger. He worked out to be a good fighter, primed his body to be in excellent shape and always prepared. Not because he wanted to look good.  
  
Stiles did look good like this though, and his ass was rounder too, fuller. Derek was definitely an ass man, so with the way those firm globes were presented, he took the opportunity to massage the glutes and run his fingers along the cleft to let water and soap trickle the skin. It was a slow exploration as well as cleaning, and he didn't let his fingers push in, despite the arousal he could scent on his mate. If they would take care of the erections each time they had one, they'd never get anything done. They seemed to be hypersensitive around each other, their bodies reacting as if it wasn't half-dead like it was in the human's case.  
  
So he kept up the gentle massages, the smooth caresses, running his hands to the front after adding some more shower gel to his palm. Along the slight beginning of the pronounced abs, the pectorals and nipples, down towards where, not surprising, the cock had filled out more. It wasn't fully there, more a lazy appreciation for what the werewolf was doing, but as he cleaned there too, it certainly got with the program. It made him chuckle against Stiles' back.

"Do you want my hand to take care of it or ignore it?" It could be frustrating to walk around aroused but with the exhaustion, it might be too much. Then again, Stiles could sleep in the car and he didn't have to do anything right now.  
  
Derek's hand took a firm hold of the erection, giving it a slow tug as he pressed against his lover. "Lean against me, I've got you." Last night the magic had urged Stiles into mating but they hadn't given into it, it wasn't fully what they should be doing but it might help.

Each caress and appreciating grab of those hands made Stiles feel warmer, his cheeks now burning, heart beating faster. No one could've prepared him for how it felt with a settled mate bond when his mate was touching him like this. It was building his desire steadily and it felt like melting and slowly burning him from the inside out. Each exploring stroke against his goose bumped skin only adding to that and making his breathing become shallower by the minute.  
  
Especially when Derek finally got between his legs. The hot puffs of his breath and words sent a shiver down his spine and he groaned from the firm grip and tug around his rapidly hardening shaft. "Yes..." Stiles managed to whisper only that as he obediently leaned back against Derek's firm and warm front. His hands reached back and grabbed the other man's thighs both to keep him pressed against Stiles and to steady himself. He knew Derek got him in every meaning and it made Stiles go lax in his arms, submitting more and more as he rested his head against the side of the stubbly neck.  
  
Everything seemed to intensify and stir a bit the second his tattooed back touched Derek's chest. It wasn't overwhelming like before, but his shimmering magic kinda latched onto Derek, the amber tendrils glowing dimly as they spread over onto the wolf's warm skin. Not to take or overwhelm, but to connect and make them feel each other and their emotions a bit better. It was beautiful in Stiles' opinion. So warm and right that it made his mind drift, each conscious thought fading away as he was rendered into someone driven by sheer instinct.  
  
He even made a small whine-like sound to express his need and slight impatience, his head moving enough to rub his nose along Derek's jawline. It was followed by small kisses pressed there. The gesture was clear: Stiles wanted for that hand to finally move on his throbbing and oozing erection. The dull ache in his groin has been there since last night and he kinda liked it, but needed more now.

The quietness of the other wasn't even noticed, Derek was too busy to stare at the wet naked body plastered against his own. His arms went around the waist, one hand wrapped around the thick length and the other resting against the pale chest to keep the human steady. The warm stream of water made everything slippery so Derek made himself even bigger, legs slightly spread to anchor himself even more. Magic trickled against his skin as much as the shower water did, the warm glow spreading.  
  
As much as he wanted this to be a slow and lazy moment between them, he wasn't sure how much energy his mate had so his hand moved with intent, up and down with a firm grip, his thumb brushing along the head each time to spread the sticky pre-come before the shower would wash it down the drain. Their position made it easier but it wasn't quite the same as doing it to himself, though he used the same kind of movements. He knew what he liked, but Stiles' likes were still something to be uncovered. So he listened to the hitch in his breaths, the way his body would twitch each time, finding his way to making it good for the other.  
  
His own body wasn't unaffected by the sounds and noises but he didn't do anything about it, content to focus on his mate. The erection was firm against Stiles' behind, but Derek kept his hips still on purpose, this wasn't going to turn into penetration, no matter how tempting. It was enough for him to feel, taste and smell Stiles, to marvel at the feeling of his hand wrapped around him, the naked body pressed against him. To see him press closer with needy sounds, to feel the wiry curls touch his hand.

Stiles knew he wasn't going to last long, but he didn't care. His mate was finally jerking his aching cock, making him groan and moan, eyes rolling back in his head after the picture of Derek's big hand pulling on him so perfectly burned into his very being. His head fell back against a shoulder, body starting to tense up and tremble more and more with each stroke. It felt so damn good! He felt his slightly open mouth start to go numb. Derek's emotions of wanting to help him, keep him safe and admiring him like this only messed more with Stiles' already fuzzy mind and being which was connected to the other by the tendrils.  
  
The hand against his chest was a welcomed feeling and he was kinda glad for the extra support, because his legs were starting to go weak on him too. But that didn't mean he didn't want to give back some to Derek for his efforts. Oh he could clearly feel that hard rod and any other given time, he would've demanded for it to end up in his ass, but for now he was satisfied with making it nestle against his crack. He wasn't done, though. Stiles removed a hand from Derek's thigh to slap it against the tiled wall to the side for more support and began rolling his hips back and forth.  
  
The sensation of fucking into that firm grip while rubbing against Derek's cock on his way back made him cry out shakily and a bit wrecked. His head lolled to the side, exposing his long neck (subconsciously on purpose as he was offering himself up to the alpha to take for his pleasure).  
  
"Derek... Bite me... Make me come... So close! _Please!_ " he panted hoarsely and out of breath, more pre-cum oozing out of him, his cock throbbing in Derek's grip as his balls drew up. The tension was killing him. The amber root-like tendrils crawling further on Derek's chest, spreading lower across his stomach.

As much as Derek was behaving, Stiles wasn't at all. The teasing human made use of the erection pressing against him by pushing back, creating friction which made the wolf jerk in surprise, moaning. It was almost too much, the feeling of Stiles being close and his own hard on slipping along the tempting body without going inside, there was only the slight teasing of it with each hip movement. He should say no, push his mate away to stop it but, as usual, thinking was near impossible once they gave into their arousal.  
  
Near silently gasping, Derek felt the magic flare up again, spreading, going lower. _Oh god_. Tendrils of warm pleasure zinged into his gut, setting pleasure aflame. It teased the fangs out, made his eyes flare as his vision turned red. It wasn't full beta shift but it would have been so bad if he had opted to bite without thinking. He hissed, forcing himself to change back so he could scrape along the skin with blunt human teeth instead. No risk of turning his mate. If he would use his low alpha voice, he could make Stiles come, one word and the human would flood his hand with his release but who was he to turn down the offer of a marking? Nor did he want to ignore the way the graceful long neck was exposed to him, inviting him even before the plea had left the human's mouth.  
  
Licking the water from the skin, his lips found the perfect spot before his teeth followed. It was executed with careful pressure, so his teeth would leave an imprint which was going to bruise but not break skin. The older man wanted to, wanted to have his mouth filled by the coppery taste of blood, wanted it to stain his human teeth red. To have Stiles' golden energy fill him up in every way possible, but not now, not in a shower where his mate was barely keeping himself up. This was going to bruise though.  
  
It was enough for Stiles to reach completion, watery seed dripped onto his hand and hit the tiled wall before the shower washed it away. The human's body trembled against him, his face slack. He was beautiful like this.

Finally, _finally_ he got the release he was burning for! And it was blinding and intense. Not as intense like when they did a full mating, but close! It blinded Stiles, made him cry out and repeat Derek's name a few times as he was riding out his orgasm, hips jerking forward without control until his mate squeezed the last drop out too. His neck was throbbing deliciously where Derek had bitten him as requested. He loved to wear his marks on him and he wore them with pride, never making any attempt of hiding them. He knew the alpha in him loved that to bits...  
  
Stiles risked removing his hand from the wall to hold the one pressed against his chest. His heart was still beating wildly, his breathing slowly starting to calm down as he tried to pull himself together and stay upright on his wobbly legs. He moved only when the slow stroking on his oversensitive cock got too much. He carefully turned around in Derek's arms and put his around his neck.  
  
His lips were on the other's mouth without a single word uttered. His "thank you" and feelings were there in that deep kiss. The damn butterflies just didn't want to stop fluttering in his stomach either... He also shamelessly used Derek's distraction with his mouth to slide a hand down on the wolf's chest and side. Now that the tattoo wasn't pressed against his bare skin and Stiles' being was calming down, the magic began withdrawing too, making the golden lines slowly fade from Derek's skin. Oh, if this will be like this each time, he'll have a lot of fun experimenting with it!  
  
He was still kissing Derek when his wet hand found the neglected erection and he began slowly pumping it the way he had noticed his mate liked. His grip was firm yet careful, twisting on his way up a few times, his palm rubbing against the oozing tip before it continued back down. Stiles broke the kiss and lifted his dimly glowing eyes at his man. "I want you to let go whenever you feel like it and come on my stomach. I want you to mark me like yours even more..." he whispered with a dirty undertone.

Derek’s skin which had been bathed in golden tendrils along his stomach, was turning to the normal pale olive tan, the magic not retreating but fading away into him to join the rest of it. It was like he had been painted on with golden lines and some invisible wipe made them disappear. It was all Stiles, his arousal had been bleeding into Derek and now that the release had been found, the younger man's magic had settled too. He didn't know much about it, this was new to him as well. He didn't even know if others could see it or if this was for sensitive supernatural eyes only. Maybe even only to them. Which would be preferable, for Stiles' own safety.  
  
Derek didn't want to say you're welcome, not to something which didn't even require a thank you, but his refusal was saved by lips meeting his own. Insistent, deep, claiming his mouth as much as the hand was claiming his erection. Derek had been embarrassingly close from watching his mate find his orgasm, but he wasn't a young boy and his body wasn't so easily giving in anymore. Still, he nodded to Stiles, not trusting his voice to work at this moment, because the other knew oh so very well what his words were doing to the alpha. The invitation to mark always a welcomed one, no matter if it was with teeth or sucking a bruise or coming all over the soft stomach.  
  
Hips moved with the hand's movements and Derek let his head fall back against the shower stall for a brief moment to enjoy the feelings. He felt the orgasm approaching at some point, and he had to see Stiles being marked so his eyes snapped open as his body tensed up, shuddering when hot semen spurted all over Stiles as requested, coating the stomach and groin, making them dirty all over so it was a good thing they were still in the shower. So much for behaving. They were pretty terrible together. With a hoarse laugh, he shook his head at them.

Stiles loved how Derek didn't protest and let him be dirty in bed – the wolf undoubtedly enjoying that too... Being marked by the alpha like that didn't affect only the wolf, it made him groan satisfied too as he watched the ropes of cum land on his skin, the muscles flexing underneath on instinct. "So fucking hot..." he muttered under his breath then as he was stroking the last drops out of the spent cock, he grinned up at Derek.  
  
"What's so funny? I thought I was better even in my current state than to laugh at me," he snorted with humor in his eyes. A laughing Derek was the most beautiful sight for him. It was definitely a good look on him. Not that he didn't find a brooding Derek charming and hot too. But now he seemed so much younger and was practically glowing (from his magic too). He could see it around Derek if he squinted or concentrated enough. The thought occurred to Stiles that it was _his_ very unique way of marking the wolf as his. No other could give him this kind of mark. After all, the Stilinski brand was very unique and rare. That thought coaxed a small chuckle from Stiles too.  
  
While waiting for the reply, he found the shower gel again and this time it was his turn to start cleaning the gorgeous man in front of him – and himself too, but making sure to get to his marked up stomach and groin last. Both to let the scent linger stronger for Derek for a while, and because he was reluctant washing it down just yet. Sue him, he liked Derek's spunk on him.  
  
But at least the pain from his bones and muscles faded to a tolerable tired buzz in them. That was progress and he was quite sure it wasn't just because of the pain-siphoning the wolf did earlier.

"You nearly died last night, you look half-asleep on your feet and we're giving out hand jobs. We're worse than teenagers." Far worse because their first time had been in a car and they had zero restraint whenever one of them initiated even anything remotely arousing. And it wasn't like Derek to be so shamelessly into sex. He had been completely transformed since they have started their relationship. It felt so good that he knew it wasn't anything bad but the fact they couldn't keep their hands to themselves was amusing to him.  
  
Reaching out to draw Stiles in for a kiss despite him not being done with cleaning them, he nibbled on the bottom lip before releasing him. "Once we're back and we've been to Deaton and you've slept, I'm going to cover you in my cum." Stiles wasn't the only one who liked it, it made the wolf want to reach out and rub it into the skin to make the scent last. Instead though, he stepped out of the shower, waiting for the other to get out too because he wasn't going to turn his back on him and have him slip and fall after all. Handing him a towel, Derek was quick to dress, knowing they needed to get on the road.  
  
"I'll throw the rest of the food out," the Hale promised, leaving Stiles to dress in his own pace while he dealt with the garbage and the last cleaning up. The carefully packed food was thrown out as well because after the impromptu shower sex, they were going to need a real meal somewhere along the road. Stiles hadn't seemed that hungry but maybe curly fries would entice him to eat enough for his body to deal with everything that had happened. Towels hung up so they would dry, Derek took their bags, not because Stiles was a weak human, but because he really did look half-asleep on his feet so he stuffed the pillow in the lax arms, knowing how protective Stiles was about having his own pillow with him wherever he went.

"I like being worse than a teenager with you... especially when you cover me with your cum," Stiles grinned then as sleep threatened to make him… well, fall asleep like Derek said, chose to follow the 'orders' of his alpha. Well... that sounded kinda strange in his mind. But it was true. It's been true for a long time. Even before their bonds, even when Derek wasn't an alpha anymore. But it was something Stiles wouldn't necessarily admit aloud because of his stubbornness. He let these thoughts sluggishly drift through his mind as he was holding his treasured pillow to his chest with one hand and locked up his apartment.  
  
Derek snorted then downstairs looked at his mate. "You should stretch out in the backseat and get some more sleep."  
  
Not bitching about Derek doing all the carrying or his 'strong suggestions' – no, not orders! – Stiles glimpsed at the Camaro's backseat and a dirty smirk lit up his otherwise tired face.

"You also totally want my scent all over the backseat again, don't you?" he referred to their first time on said comfortable seat. Very comfortable and alluring seat, which would be even more comfortable with only one man trying to fit on it instead of two.  
  
Ignoring the siren call of the seat, the young detective watched Derek pack their bags away in the trunk, trying to decide if he should accept or deny the wolf's suggestion. He went with a compromise when his leg slightly buckled under him, but hoped holding onto the open door made it look only as if he shifted his weight.  
  
"Okay, fine. With one condition: you get me curly fries and a double cheese burger... oh and a big energy drink! I feel like I'll need greasy food and caffeine," he narrowed his eyes at Derek then finally climbed to the back, tucking his pillow into a comfortable position as he was lying on his side, legs pulled up to more or less arrange his limbs comfortably. "As much as I love this car, it could be somewhat bigger," he grumbled under his nose. "Anyways... does the seat and car still smell of us?" he asked curious, his nose obviously not sharp enough to pick up any scent.

"Yeah, because muscle cars are known for their large interior," Derek rolled his eyes at the human, even though he secretly agreed that yeah, as beautiful as the car was, it wasn't practical. Not with storing people to sleep, not with a toddler needing a car seat and definitely not with two grown males attempting to have sex on the backseat. Okay, fine, they succeeded but it was only because one of the doors had been opened so they had the ability to stretch out their legs. But it was _the_ Camaro and he didn't want to get rid of it either. It was always smooth driving with this kind of car and it was perfect when chased by hunters. The jeep had been... fine but after all the soccer mom car comments and the fact that it wasn't great at turning corners, he had sold it.  
  
Settling behind the wheel, he glanced in the rear view mirror where Stiles was fighting sleep like a little kid, too stubborn to admit his mate had been right. The engine roared to life and he reversed the route on the GPS.

"Seat's clean, I scrubbed it to wipe it all off because I don't want my daughter to be introduced to the smell of our semen." Same reason why he religiously cleaned the bedding after they had sex in it, because as much as he loved having everything smell like them, there was a little werewolf baby who'd be able to tell as well. Noah would pick up on the sex scent if they didn't air out the room but human noses just weren't a match for those of werewolves. "Get some sleep."  
  
The radio was turned on but softly in the background, it would maybe help the human fall asleep while Derek was driving. The plan was to get at least two hours in before stopping for food, enough time for Stiles to nap but it depended on how asleep he was. He might just stop a few towns before Beacon Hills. Derek refused to talk more so the other was forced to fall asleep, and for a while there was only the radio playing and the soft snores from the back seat.  
  
His rune mark was itching now that it was hidden and he felt restless deep down, all side-effects of the magic because his body was getting used to having it within. He had no use for it at the moment so it was kind of just there but he wondered if maybe it would aid him when he had to pull pain from somebody, or if he had to heal himself. With the way it had restored his aged cells, it seemed to have a purpose for him too but it did feel like it was too much inside of him. It wasn't going to kill him, it wasn't going to harm him in the way it would Stiles but there was a wrongness to it, like an error code flashing before his eyes. Deaton would know.  
  



	2. 5: Bonds for Life - part 2

**5: Bonds for Life – part 2**

Stiles woke with a start, limbs slightly flailing as he was yanked out of his restless dreams by the siren of a passing ambulance. He was quite disoriented for a while, asking Derek about where they were. In the end the wolf didn't wake him up as he was sleeping too deeply – which he frankly needed a lot – and informed Stiles that they were two towns from Beacon Hills. From there it didn't take long for Derek to pull into the parking lot of a diner he knew Stiles mentioned liking a few years back and they loaded up on food in one of the separated boxes. Stiles' stomach seemed to like the idea of greasy food this time, so he ate and drank everything on his tray, washing it down with a big milkshake instead of an energy drink. Life seemed a little bit better after that as he settled into the passenger seat this time.  
  
Though, the closer they got to their hometown, the heavier the food in his belly felt. He was sure Derek would be able to smell and feel – because now they could catch each other’s feelings easier, thanks mate bond! – that he was worried. Not for himself, but for Derek and others around him. Will he be able to fix himself and his magic? Learn why it was acting up so much since his first return to Beacon Hills? Were the bonds causing that? Will he unintentionally hurt Derek? That's the last thing he wanted to do. He has to learn full control over this quickly and Deaton better answer his ten thousand questions this time because his body still felt off. A bit more rested, but not quite right yet, even if his magic was now just shimmering in the background. It only felt like... "awakening" somewhat once they passed the Beacon Hills sign on the road. It was weird. It was as if the magic reacted to where he was. And from that ten more questions for Deaton got on his list.  
  
After a heavy meal of fries, hamburgers and milkshakes and coffee, they both had felt more ready to deal with the exhaustion of Deaton. They needed their full wits about them after all to understand whatever riddles and half-truths they'd be hearing, and try to get straight answers to their questions. It's why Derek had insisted on the milkshakes, it had plenty of sugar in it without Stiles being hopped up on sugar and caffeine because of a large cola in his system. There was enough anxiety reeking up the car to add a hyper ADHD man to it too.  
  
Earlier Stiles had texted the vet that they were on their way and true to his words, the dark-skinned emissary/vet or _something_ was at the animal clinic. There were no patients because it was the evening and the place was officially closed as the sign said. He was staring at them with his annoying calm and neutral smile, but his brown eyes were examining them as they walked to the counter.  
  
"Hey, Doc. Long time, no see. Thanks for yesterday," Stiles opened with a handshake and a small tired smile, suddenly regretting for not concealing with some make up the still there dark bags under his eyes from the intense gaze. He was also 100% sure that Deaton could feel the trembling of his hand or the slightly numbing sparks running along their arms when they shook hands.

The Hale didn't offer a handshake, he kept his hands stuffed in his coat and opted for a nod instead, not that it made the penetrative look he got from the emissary any less penetrative. Deaton always knew more than he let on, always seemed to have that uncanny ability to read people without asking anything. Okay, Derek did that too, he was able to scent others and had some stalker tendencies but he was a werewolf, so that was different. Or so he reasoned in his head to justify his unreasonable thinking. Couldn't exactly admit that the human gave him the 'heebie-jeebies.'  
  
"Congratulations on the wedding," the vet said almost cheerfully, though there was a scathing tone to it which Derek assumed was directed at him. At least he had the decency to look down so he didn't have to see Stiles' reaction to it because yeah, Derek may have avoided telling him that they pretty much got unofficially married on werewolf terms. There was no ring, no proposal, but it was still a ‘forever until death do us apart’ kind of situation. Even more of a permanent one at that.  
  
As Stiles rubbed his hand in his jeans in an attempt to erase the tingling of his palm and the residue energy of the sparks, he suddenly froze. "Whoa, what?? That wasn't phrased like that in any of the books I had read," he looked from one man to the other, his brain suddenly reeling with the new information. He was so stupid that he didn't realize this! Of course it was like a wedding to a werewolf. _Fuuuuck..._ He blinked at Derek, who pointedly avoided his gaze, so he sighed and shook his head. "We'll talk about this later... _hubby_ ," the younger man emphasized the last word, but knew there were more pressing matters at the moment.  
  
Deaton kinda ignored Stiles’ outburst and rather turned to Derek. "I have to admit, I wasn't aware it had evolved so fast between the two of you. Now I know why Stiles got sick. Derek, you didn't think to link your lack of appetite and sleep to a missing bond mate?"  
  
"I have a toddler daughter, lack of sleep and food is normal," he grumbled in reply, feeling chastised even though he did speak the truth.

Stiles managed to suppress a smile from Derek's retort and rather focused on Deaton, who eventually nodded to Derek as if accepting his reply. "Okay, so... Doc... I have questions. A lot of questions. Will you be as cryptic as usual or straightforward like last night when my life was on the line?"  
  
Deaton gave Stiles his usual mysterious half-smile and like so many times, he chose to ignore replying as he waved behind the counter. "Why don't we go to the back and sit down? I have a feeling this will be longer than to stand around," he said and walked to the examination room they grew to know well in the past.  
  
"That's not an answer..." Stiles grumbled under his breath loud enough for the vet to hear, but he followed after a side-glance to Derek.  
  
Once in the room, Deaton faced them and kept his eyes on Stiles, clearly seeing more than what he led on. "Ask your questions, Stiles," he finally said, observing how the two gravitated towards each other without realizing. He also noticed how when one of them moved, the other reacted in some kind of way too. It's been there between the two earlier as well, but now it was more noticeable – or at least for someone like him.  
  
"First of all, this is... very new for us too and it happened much faster than we thought it would. But... it happened and obviously messed both of us up, high time. From your words I reckon that I've got sick because I wasn't around Derek when the bond was still settling?"  
  
"Very good, Stiles. Yes, it was part of the problem. Tell me... how did your magic feel to you before and after your return to Beacon Hills?"  
  
Stiles remained silent for a long moment as he thought it through instead of a sarcastic remark. He thought he knew what Deaton meant. "Before... it was... 'small'. Easy to call forth and control when I was learning about the basics and was practicing with it. During my visit..." he continued, thinking back as he slid his hands into his front pockets "I think it started to make leaps in growth and 'leaked' out more as control became harder. Why was that?"  
  
Deaton took a moment to exchange a meaningful look with Derek. Obviously, Stiles still didn't know about a lot of things – important things – because of the lack of communication on the wolf's part. "Derek's closeness triggered it," he said and went silent as if that explained everything. Instead of providing a clearer explanation, he waved Stiles closer to take a better look at him under the unforgiving neon lights.

Derek's closeness didn't trigger it as much as the fact that he had dared to kiss the human, and then had dared to take it even further and then it had all changed. Knowing what they had been capable of in the past had made him keep his distance, so it had never been as triggered. Not to mention that Stiles hadn't been involved in magic until he had moved away from Beacon Hills and had realized he had a true potential there. So of course, them giving into their feelings combined with the new magic, it hadn't gone as it should have.  
  
The Hale remained quiet at the sidelines as usual, arms crossed, listening and observing more than adding to the conversation. No matter how many meaningful looks the vet threw his way, he refused to be baited in defending himself because obviously, if he had known Stiles would have been harmed, let alone killed, he would have said it to the human. And if Deaton didn't realize that, then Derek had nothing to say to him. He was used to others thinking the worst of him and instead of snarling about it, he opted to ignore it as he always had done because in his own opinion, nobody cared to know differently anyways. Except Stiles who seemed to get Derek even more than the wolf himself did.  
  
Of course he knew what the human looked like, especially under the harsh lights. Too pale, heavy dark smudges under his eyes, exhausted and simply like he had nearly died. So he looked like what had happened while Derek himself looked young and strong, the epitome of health. Deaton picked up on all of that as well, with the way he often glanced from Derek to Stiles, grabbing at his chin in thought. By now that was like the Deaton sign for ‘what I'm about to tell you isn't going to be something you'll like’.  
  
"The ritual was supposed to balance the magic. Derek, how did you feel after the ritual?"  
  
So much for standing at the sidelines. "Like I was drugged, high."

The vet hummed in answer at that, giving a regretful sigh. "That means you gained too much. It will get easier with time and it doesn't kill you so you will have to get used to that. However, Stiles needs to learn to take back some of the magic to balance it out. It is a delicate process," he continued. "Stiles is in control of it, in the taking and giving. If he gives too much, he will be sick. If he takes too much, you will be sick. He has to learn to know what his own magic is within you, so he won't take yours. But with your soul half gone, it will be very unlikely he will be able to feel the difference."

Glad that the examination of his state was mostly done, Stiles listened to the conversation while his mind fired up and started racing. "It makes sense..." he murmured more to himself and leaned against the stainless steel table with his butt, fingering the edge of the bandage on his forearm as if unconsciously itching to try to take some of the magic back. "But if I'm not likely to feel the difference – which is something I refuse to believe – then how am I supposed to do the ritual right? I don't want to accidentally hurt him. Or anyone else, for that matter," he frowned at Deaton, who simply smiled again. On some days Stiles itched to wipe that nearly condescending smile off. But then maybe it was more of a 'you don't know so many things yet' kind. He could never tell with Deaton. Or his sister.  
  
"There are ways to help you with that. Did your back tattoo exhibit unusual behavior?" the vet asked. To an outsider it might have sounded strange, because it nearly sounded as if Deaton was talking about the tattoo as if it was alive. In some way it was, though.  
  
"Yeees..." Stiles stressed the vowel with a questioning tone, his frown deepening. "When we... erm... It kinda came alive. Amber glow and growing root-like tendrils. They even spread onto Derek's skin and stayed until the tattoo touched him and my... magic started calming down," he provided with a light blush on his otherwise pale cheeks. "They faded into him eventually. What does that mean?"  
  
"It means that it works as it should. As you should know since you are wearing one, such magical tattoos are good focal points to focus the wielder's magic. Apparently in your case it works even with you unconsciously using it. It's rare and a sign of natural talent. Just like I thought," he added the last more to himself, obviously hinting at the fact that he had seen that Spark in Stiles years ago.  
  
"Then why didn't you teach me before?" Stiles finally blurted out the question that's been on his mind for a long while. Probably echoing Derek's same question too.  
  
Deaton's expression changed into a nearly apologetic one. "You weren't ready, Stiles. You have to understand that everything happens with a reason and everything has its own time. Back then it wasn't the right time and your Spark was mostly dormant, not triggered. Frankly, I was surprised that your... connection to the Nemeton didn't trigger it more..." he mused, rubbing his chin again. "But maybe it did now..." the emissary hummed, glimpsing at Derek questioningly, as if asking if he, himself had felt something different. "You haven't told him yet, have you?"  
  
"Haven't told me what?" Stiles tried to decipher the silent communication going on between the two men. Which boiled down to Derek's usual brooding glare and Deaton's calm yet somehow urging one.

It was easy to see why Deaton had mentioned his soul problem, he wanted them to get into that and attempt to fix it so Stiles would have full use of the bonds they had made and the magic ritual they had done. Derek wasn't so keen on getting that half back, especially now that he felt it wasn't needed. The emptiness would be easier to deal with now that he was bonded. Though he did wonder how fair it would be to his mate when one half of the pair wasn't fully whole. And if Stiles would refuse to take magic back because of the possible danger of taking too much from Derek. Then there was no choice in the matter, they had to figure it out. He wasn't going to leach on the human's health.  
  
Deaton hadn't even made a face or blushed at the way Stiles had hinted at but avoided saying what they had been doing, but the man had been emissary. Werewolf packs, especially with born wolves were rather shameless. They didn't have the same hold ups that human society had but it was kind of cute to see the usually crass human stumble over his words due to their privacy. The rest was understandable, basically the same reason why Derek had opted to push Stiles away and to not stick around Beacon Hills that often. The younger man had been happy with Lydia at the time, had gone to college and it had seemed like the Hale hadn't been needed anymore. Because they both hadn't been ready. Of course his quietness didn't last long when he was dragged back into the conversation by being put on the spot like that.  
  
Sighing, he looked down, studying his hands as if they were holding his interest when in truth, he geared himself up for what he was implored to tell. There was temptation to snarl at Deaton to tell the story since he knew it so well but it was a childish rebuttal to cover up his own refusal so he swallowed it.

"When I killed Paige, it didn't only keep the Nemeton alive." That part of the story Stiles knew because Peter had been so blunt in telling it to Cora and Stiles. It hadn't done anything to help them defeat Jennifer so it still stung to have something so intimate shared without his consent. "It also created a link to me. It was why Jennifer had been eager to have me close to her. It was a dormant kind of link, until a few years back when, in a fight, I was badly injured and the fight was at the Nemeton. I bled a lot. Days later Erica came back. When it happened again, Allison was returned and it happened three times now."  
  
Alan nodded to that, of course he had been expecting the explanation to be as short as possible, lacking all kinds of details and only focusing on what was needed to know. Or what Derek was willing to share.

"As you know, Druids have sacrificed to Nemetons for a very long time, I suspect it gives Derek fallen warriors to reward his sacrifice, no matter that it was not willing. It has no ill intent, it gives and it takes, much as you do, Stiles. The Hales have protected Beacon Hills to protect the Nemeton. It was their duty, the Nemeton took it as such." Which was something that should have kept Derek from connecting with more magic without guidance in the vet's view. "You and Derek have a link to a powerful tree, when the two of you linked together as well, it amplified."

What Derek revealed was like a blow into the stomach for Stiles. He even made a sound as if the air was pushed out of his lungs. The staring detective's emotions stirred up and in reaction to that, his magic too. There was confusion, disbelief then some disappointment and maybe a bit of anger too. When the room tilted, he plopped down on the stool by the table and he took a few deep breaths, working on reining in his emotions and magic before looking up at Derek.  
  
The werewolf seemed and felt uncomfortable, defiant as if he still didn't understand how this was happening without his consent. Although now all three of them knew the reason behind it. Stiles knew enough of Nemetons to understand they were a force of nature without consciousness. They were points of energy – magic, if you like – which concentrated in them and they've been worshiped, used and protected for thousands of years. Sometimes Stiles could still feel that connection to the tree even when he was awake, although it manifested more often during his dreams. In the past he had hated and feared it, but with time he had learned to accept that it was going to be there. And frankly, it didn't feel malicious. It felt ancient and massive, mostly dormant, but still present in his life.  
  
His heart ached and he stopped himself from clutching at his own chest. "They both were my friends. Why haven't you told me that they are back? Does anyone else know?" he asked quietly, trying to grasp the fact that they were alive... or something. But Derek should've told him! He mourned their deaths for months – hell, he never really got over them! Erica had grown especially close to Stiles with her wicked humor and teasing ways. For god's sake, she even admitted at the end that Stiles made a good Batman! He could never watch Batman again since her death.  
  
Dropping his gaze to the tiled floor, he leaned on his hands as his fingers dug into his knees and he took a few more calming breaths. A panic attack or a fit of anger with his magic getting loose wouldn't be a great thing right now.  
  
"So... are they like... mindless zombies now? Or like in iZombie? Was it a full revival? Oh god, don't tell me it's like in Pet Cemetery because then I'll quit my life!" he chuckled bitterly, fighting off the lingering feeling of betrayal. "I know this is fucked up and probably that's the reason you didn't announced these accidents all over, but... _Derek_... It's me... They were my friends..." he looked up with sadness, seemingly unable to step over the fact that this important information was kept even from him.

"They're fine, they're not zombies." The werewolf said shortly to mask how he felt about Stiles' pain and accusation, because it hurt to hear those words, to feel how the human dealt with hearing it. There was grief, anger, betrayal, confusion... Of course there were many reasons why he wasn't going around telling people, not even those who had been close to them. Because one of the reasons was the fact it was their choice who they were telling and Stiles hadn't been in Beacon Hills, so the girls had focused on those who had been. In Allison's case that was her father and Melissa, and Erica had mostly latched onto Derek since her parents had moved away and none of the other betas had been alive or in town.  
  
They blamed Derek for ripping them away from their lives and then for throwing them back into it without asking them – Allison more than Erica. Stiles blamed him too and it made him play it close to the chest, closing off rapidly because he couldn't deal with being blamed yet again. Tired of having to explain himself because everybody always assumed the worst and Stiles? Stiles wasn't supposed to do that, he wasn't supposed to be close to a panic attack because of Derek. It only intensified the guilty feelings he was already struggling with. Because nobody cared he hadn't wanted any of it, he hadn't asked to nearly die repeatedly to revive people. He hadn't had a choice in who it was going to be, hadn't had a choice in laying there in his own sticky blood as the ground and the stump had soaked it all up. Everybody always took and took and where did it get him? In Hell being tortured for being too good a guy. Well congratulations, he had lost half of his soul and anger was more of a motivator these days than the actual guilt.  
  
"What do you think happens when it gets out that my blood revives long gone dead people to full health? If something happens to their loved ones, they'll be at my door to ask me to give their person back. And do you think they'll accept no? I have to nearly die each time, Stiles. I'm not some blood bag. And I'm not your battery to be used when I'm needed! I may not be much of a person these days but I'm still a person!" He didn't mean to shout, he didn't mean to be so angry but that's what came out because he was sick and tired of being treated like a thing, an object or a weapon.  
  
Deaton silently stepped closer to Stiles, not because he thought Derek might attack the human but because the human might attack the wolf. "We nearly lost Derek those times, and those revived have not reacted well to the shock of finding out years have passed."

The Hale seethed quietly, eyes narrowed to the older druid because was he defending him? That was new.

"I thought it was prudent to keep this quiet, for this gift to be used with ill intent would darken the Nemeton's magic as well," the vet continued, ignoring the heated glare because it was Derek, he did that.

Feeling Derek close off from him so abruptly tugged at their bonds and it nearly caused physical pain to Stiles. He quickly concluded that he hated that feeling with his very being because it left him alone, cold and hurting again. Derek shouting at him angrily even more so. It made his chest tighten even more, air becoming thinner by the minute because his alpha's... his mate’s anger was directed at him. It quickly pushed Stiles to the brink of tears as he looked to the side, unable to hold Derek's burning gaze. He fought the tears though just as hard as the panic attack and the swelling up magic which wanted to protect him. But he didn't want to hurt Derek, even if he was being an asshole who misunderstands his words. Again...  
  
What made Stiles' jaw clench and his nails dig into his knees – strong enough to bruise and turn his knuckles white – was the comment about Derek being his 'battery'. It made guilt knock out confusion and disbelief from the mix. Of course, he had noticed how Deaton got closer to him and his magic reacted to that too, nearly 'hissing' as if it wanted the other druid to stay away. But otherwise it just kept slightly swirling in him. It took every ounce of his limited energy to keep it that way and his voice to stay quiet. The old Stiles would've already raised his voice, explain his point with flailing arms and big hand gestures. Now he was afraid to loosen his grip on his aching knees, because he had sworn to himself that he wasn't going to hurt Derek (or anyone undeserving) with his magic. It was one of his biggest fears, especially nowadays when it was growing so rapidly and his control was so poor over it.  
  
"Don't project your feelings on me, Derek. _I wasn’t blaming you!_ I was asking why you haven't told me..." he said a bit short on breath still. "My comment about understanding that the situation is fucked up was meant like I know you couldn't start telling people about this. I'm not stupid! I know what danger this carries!" he finally looked up at the other man, the amber shimmering in his welled-up eyes. "And just like you didn't choose to become a fucking necromancer by accident, I didn't choose to make you my 'battery' either! Or do you think I had a choice about that?!" he sniffed, the guilt choking him for a long moment. "For god's sake..." Stiles cursed, curling in on himself as his tears finally fell onto his jeans-clad thighs, his frustration making the glasses in the cabinets and around the room clink together repeatedly, as if there was a small earthquake in the brewing.  
  
It wasn't just Derek's behavior and cutting himself off, leaving him to deal with his slipping control and impending panic attack alone that frustrated him. It was himself too. "Doc... if you have any advice on how to get a better grip of my control, don't hesitate to share it _right now_..." he gritted through his clenched teeth.  
  
Deaton watched him with a deep frown, one hand cautiously reaching out towards the shimmering air surrounding Stiles then pulling it back as if it zapped or burned him. He glimpsed at the wolf seriously.

"Don't cut him off! It makes things worse for both of you," he warned and crouched down near Stiles but didn't try to touch him again. "Find your anchor, Stiles. Calm your mind. It works the same way like before you came back here. It just takes more concentration and you have to pour more of your belief in it. You have to believe that you have all the power to contain your emotions and magic. Conquer your fear and pain. Let them wash over you and let the emotions go one by one. Let the bond help you too. What's your mantra?"  
  
"I am mindful and in the moment..."  
  
"Good. Repeat it," Deaton instructed.  
  
"I am mindful and in the moment..." he whispered over and over again, closing his eyes and trying to do what the druid said.

It would have been easier to leave, to accept defeat and go because he had told Stiles this would happen, he had told him Derek ruined the people around him and they got hurt. Relationships, friendships, family, they'd all leave. By death or by choice. It wasn't that having half a soul meant he had less feelings, it meant he felt the negative ones more and he had less control over his snarkiness and bluntness. It had been an asshole comment, to call himself a battery because he had forced it upon himself. Stiles never had a clue what it had all meant.  
  
Instead he had lashed out at a human already on the verge of a panic attack, making him cry and lose control. And it didn't make him feel good about himself, it made him feel exactly what he deserved to feel, and one of the reasons why he was reluctant to open it all back up. The younger man didn't deserve to feel any of that, it was his burden to carry, he didn't want Stiles to feel it through the bond but he couldn't keep him out either if that made him have no control. So he carefully pushed it all down and away to deal with it some other day, drawing strength from the emptiness inside to wash over all the emotions. It was then that he opened it all up again, carefully keeping himself restrained as he watched his mate work on control like a werewolf would.  
  
The vet hovered near Stiles so Derek kept to where he was firmly rooted, arms crossed, his energy mostly focused on not running off and to keep his emotions wrapped away. They never should have bonded. Three weeks into having the Hale back in his life and Stiles was sitting in Deaton's clinic, crying and near panic. Stuck in bonds he had no choice in, too much magic to deal with and it nearly killed him, probably losing his job too while they were at it. It was some kind of record to ruin a life in 3 weeks. Usually he'd take at least 3 months and they ended up dead. The reminder of who he was… it had been needed because for a moment he had thought that happiness was something he might achieve. They had to get ahead of this so it would end and he couldn't spend the time feeling sorry for himself, this was about helping the young human find a way to deal with the magic. And pissing him off or hurting him wasn't going to make him take the magic back.  
  
"That's it, you're doing well, Stiles," Deaton encouraged, ignoring Derek and fully focused on Stiles. It had been needed to point out the Nemeton connection but he should have realized how well that would go over with either of them. They had so much potential but they both had been damaged by what had happened.

Derek had been developing and growing but his experience in Hell had changed all that. The young alpha was drowning in guilt and he'd never forget how he had returned months ago, skinny and older, stuck in monthly heat cycles, so carefully controlled in his emotions that it had been clear of the damage hiding behind it. A bonding like this had been far too soon but it had happened and as usual, he could only attempt to help the children deal with the consequences.  
  
"Perhaps you should touch him, Derek," Deaton suggested.  
  
The alpha shook his head quickly, face pulled into a frown. He doubted Stiles would want that, he had made him cry not even minutes ago.

Stiles focused on each word of his repeated mantra, at first trying desperately to make himself believe he can actually do this. It was so tempting to give into the panic, let it make him black out where he cannot feel or see anything. He just wanted peace and to rest – perhaps sleep for a week. But his fear from what would happen if he gave in was stronger.  
  
It took him a couple of minutes to feel the mantra starting to work. The first sign was that the jiggling of the glasses has stopped around them and the air wasn't that thick with magic anymore. It made Stiles breathe a bit easier by the time Deaton complimented his progress. He had to fully close out his upset emotions for now until his control was back and the panic gone.  
  
Deaton's suggestion made him falter for a moment in his chanting as he thought about it. He could feel Derek again through the bond, but he was suspiciously void of most emotions. It wasn't hard for Stiles to figure out even now what kind of emotions he was hiding from him. Guilt. Lots of guilt. Pain. Beating himself up. Probably wanting to flee and give up on them – so soon after their bonding.  
  
That thought made Stiles' heart twist in his chest again, because he didn't want that. He didn't want Derek to quit on them when they got to the first obstacle and fight as a couple. They both knew their relationship wasn't going to be easy and Stiles intended to keep himself to his word to fight for them in every meaning. Not just when it meant external threat, but internal ones too – like now.  
  
He didn't have to look up to guess that Derek shook 'no' with his head to Deaton's suggestion, because he could feel the hesitation and the lack of movement from the other side of the room. That was like another stab and made something snap in Stiles.  
  
"Come here, you moron!" one of his aching hands raised into the air before he could think of moving it and with that a wave of his magic shot out of it, wrapping around Derek to literally pull him in. _Like a fucking Jedi_ , Stiles thought, looking up as Derek's hand finally touched his, warmth and the feeling of stability immediately starting to spread down his arm, coaxing a relieved sigh to escape Stiles, his teary and glowing eyes locking into the wolf's.

Funny how quickly he was used to the swelling of the magic, inhaling it, almost with how it took the air in the room. It wasn't a good sign that Stiles was calming down but at the same moment he had noticed it, it also dissipated. The human was calming down, had stopped breathing high in his chest and the heart beat wasn't that of a terrified bunny anymore. It apparently made him in control of the magic again because one moment he had been leaning against the wall to stay far away and the next his hand was in Stiles' outstretched one. Deaton looked like this was perfectly normal while Derek was wide-eyed at the show of power. He was a tall heavy werewolf, not exactly the easiest to move.  
  
The way he took the hand in his own was out of his own volition, and he would have moved when Stiles had barked at him to come here, because he had thought he hadn't been welcome to touch. The moving of him had been involuntary by the other as well, the magic was unbalanced and he had no idea what he could do so Stiles was bound to have moments like these.

"I don't mind being your battery." It was a weak apology but it was fully meant. He didn't like the idea of somebody else being that important to his mate. The idea of having to share that kind of intimacy with somebody else, this was Derek's and he could handle it without problems. It was only going to be a problem if that was all he'd ever be. Just the power source and nothing more, the one to keep Stiles alive. Which was his job anyways because it was about _his_ mate.  
  
"This is going to be challenging," Deaton muttered but he didn't send them away so Derek assumed he was up for the challenge. "Obviously you both need to learn how to communicate better," he continued and the werewolf rolled his eyes at that because yes, that was something they had known even before they were in a relationship together.  
  
"As usual, I'm not very good at it," Derek shot back, throwing the vet's own words from years ago back in his face. When Deaton had helped Derek after Peter had used him to revive himself and the older man had accused Derek of not being a good alpha.

Deaton seemed to realize what Derek just did, but he didn't react aside from blinking once and standing up, seeing and sensing that Stiles was getting a better grip on his control and panic.  
  
Which was true. The young emissary was gulping down air easier and steadier as he wiped his face clean from the remains of his tears and chuckled weakly from Derek's 'apology'. _God_ , the wolf was so fucking clueless sometimes... Squeezing the big hand as its warmth was spreading further in Stiles, he sighed.  
  
"Derek... you are so much more than just a 'battery' to me... You'll always be the person I'll want you for you. Not because of what extraordinary things you can do. Deaton is right and we've already started working on the communication part," he sighed again as he glimpsed at the vet. To his questioning look, Stiles nodded. "I'll be fine now. Sorry about the drama," he mumbled and had the decency to flush at least a bit, his thumb unwittingly drawing small circles onto the skin between Derek's thumb and index-finger to calm perhaps both of them as he looked up at his mate again.  
  
"Don't lock me out like that again. It hurt as hell," he mumbled. "Feeling you helps not just the magic, but for me to understand you and your feelings better too. I know you are still holding back from me, but I hope that with time those boundaries between us will fall too."  
  
"That's exactly what you'll have to do," Deaton noted as he went to one of the cabinets that contained mostly old-looking books. They kinda looked out of place in an animal clinic, but then not many focused on the interior when they came into the examination room. "You have two very important and strong bonds, which will need... let's say, 'maintaining' to keep them healthy and strong. They can grow weak if you neglect them, or get stronger," he said with his back to them while he drew his finger along the spines of the books neatly lined on the shelves, clearly searching for something. "It's been a while since I've seen anything remotely as strong as these two new bonds are," he mused and pulled a book off the shelf he was checking, flipping it open before putting it under his arm and continuing to search for another one.  
  
Refusing to let the hand in his go, Stiles blinked up at Derek a bit questioningly and to see if he knew what the Doc was talking about then his amber eyes returned to the other man's annoyingly calm figure. "So... what does that mean?"  
  
"To put it bluntly, it means..." Deaton took a second book out of the cabinet and turned around to face them "that you can either become a powerful force to reckon with, or become unstable and destroy each other in the process."  
  
"What?!" Stiles' glowing eyes widened, but he had a firmer grip on his control and body now – thanks to Derek's closeness and the physical contact too. Though some sparks still ran up on Derek's branded arm.  
  
Deaton paused then walked back to the stainless steel table and put the books down. "You both have to understand that the kind of magic you possess is unique not just because it's your heritage from your mother’s side and is emissary-related, but because you both are linked to a Nemeton deeper than the few such instances I've heard of. Your union made your awakening magic do much bigger leaps than your physical body can adjust to and handle for long. You need a 'buffer' or 'battery' to store the excess magic. If you don't teach your body how to accept and control the magic, how to balance it between you and Derek, it can get dangerous. If the bonds are unbalanced for long or deteriorate too much... it can get... problematic."  
  
"How... problematic? Be honest, Doc. I can take it," Stiles looked at the other man deadly serious. Somehow knowing that they both had to hear this.  
  
"Very problematic."  
  
"You mean lethally problematic for me..." Stiles said out what Deaton was skirting around as if worried he couldn't handle the truth. But they all knew that it couldn't be hidden for long. The vet's meaningful silence and empathizing look told him everything. "It's fine. I can live with that. But what would happen to Derek?"

"I die," Derek spoke up, because that had already been a real danger of happening in a bond when it was broken. They’d die or go insane, like Peter. Bonds could be transferred, not broken and the older the bond, the more damage it could take. They could be blocked, for pretty much forever, which was the closest to divorce it could get but he had a feeling it wasn't going to be that simple for them with having two connections and all this magic involved. "Two halves of a whole can't be without one another."  
  
"In a way, you've made Derek your familiar, and you're feeding him with your magic. However, bonds to a werewolf are permanent and it's unclear what happens to familiars if their witch or warlock were to die. Some survive and some don't but in Derek's case... Now, within time, you can both have distance without the sickness happening, as long as the bonds are healthy. But you cannot block the bond for long and you cannot break it." The vet opened up on the pages he had been looking for, running his finger along the ancient lines while the two of them were reeling with the news. Well, Stiles was. For the Hale it wasn't as much of a surprise anymore, he had assumed as much because it always came with a price.  
  
"He can't be without me."  
  
"The magic would consume him," Deaton answered to the point for once even though it was never a direct yes or no answer. "What Stiles has to learn now is to balance his power between you and him. What you have to learn, is to not close him out and we will have to expose you to increases of magic to make you able to withstand more. This will take time we do not have so I suggest to clear your schedules for the upcoming weeks."  
  
Which was something Derek had figured the moment he had heard he was going to get used to more and more magic. The both of them were going to be exhausted, sick if the balance of magic was off and in Derek's case he was most likely going to spend his weeks high as a kite. They were going to have to inform Noah, the loft was going to have to wait and they had to find a way to explain it to Beth because she was going to have to spend more time with the adopted grandparents, Melissa and Chris. Noah had taken too much time off months ago to help out, but there might be others willing to help too. Because Derek and Stiles were going to have to focus on eating well, sleeping enough, practicing and not drive one another up the walls while they were at it. They were going to work on their communication but it wasn't going to come to them that quick. Derek would know, he has been trying to communicate better for years.  
  
Pale green eyes glanced at their locked hands and the way sometimes a flicker of ember would trail up to his wrist to settle at his forearm where the rune mark was. It was a scary thought, that if he were to die, that Stiles was going to die along with him because well, that was a serious problem. "I die a lot."  
  
"Then you better not stay dead for very long. As it happens you aren't very good at staying dead. It’s a Hale quality," Deaton noted.  
  
Why did Derek have a feeling that the Nemeton was behind all of this? The connection to him, him not dying easily, now bonded to a magic wielder, it all happening when there was no alpha in town anymore?

It was a lot to digest and Stiles was sure that later he was going to freak out over it big time, but not now. Now he was just sitting there, nodding along to Deaton's words. His mind was already focusing on the tasks ahead. It was easier than letting another panic attack jump on him and render him useless – and dangerous. It was going to be a lot of work for all three of them, no doubt about that. He hoped that Beth would understand and adjust, because this was going to affect her life too. And Noah's as well. Without noticing, his thoughts were once again echoing Derek's, but the hand around his and the familiar presence felt comforting, giving him strength to face the harsh truth. This was a death or life situation for both of them. It will require a lot of sweat, blood, tears and sacrifices (starting with Stiles quitting his job in San Francisco because he needed his full attention on this).  
  
Looking up at Derek again, he just watched the sharp lines of the familiar face. It looked like a poker face, but Stiles knew the little telltale signs that the wheels were turning in the wolf's head too while Stiles let himself get used to the new term 'familiar'. From fairy tales and movies he remembered those usually being black cats or owls or ravens, but of course he had to do this differently and aim higher too. He got himself an evolved black alpha werewolf... Typical Stiles!  
  
Being a familiar entailed more than many knew. Derek had met one before so he knew the term was fitting to describe their relationship magic-wise. More terms for Stiles to look up when they weren't going to be too exhausted to move that was. They were going to join in on magic boot camp. The squeeze of his hand drew his attention to the human. The promise of not letting him die was one he'd gladly make himself but it wasn't realistic. He was alpha, he was Hale, they had a whole town full of supernaturals and a magic tree to protect. Getting injured, near fatally was par for the course. However, he now had a daughter and a mate to take care of so dying wasn't something he was aspiring. Never had.  
  
Squeezing Derek's hand again, Stiles concentrated on their bonds and experimentally let his resolve and comforting intentions travel through the mate bond to see if the other man could feel them.

"I won't let you die again. We can do this. Together," he echoed one of his previous promises. "Despite everything that would indicate otherwise, I believe in us. It doesn't mean I'm not worried or terrified, but it was proven quite clearly that together we are stronger. We tackle this then we'll fix your soul too and figure the rest out. One step at a time," he smiled softly and encouragingly at his mate. Even now, after such serious news about what failing would mean for both of them, he wanted Derek to be reassured, to know that Stiles was on his side, that he got his back. "We should stop blaming ourselves and focus on the first step."  
  
Stiles' pep talk was appreciated, and probably not just for his sake since he could feel that the human was pushing his emotions aside as well, focusing on the now so the freak out was going to come later when they were home and had more time to think. The wolf was more stuck on the worried and terrified, the knowledge that a whole person's life was depending on his ability not to die. Not even worried that Stiles wasn't going to master the magic because he was determined and certainly not a quitter, so the chances of him killing Derek were small. To fix this and his soul, it sounded so easy, would have been easy if Deaton wasn't eyeing them with that face of his that spelled doom and gloom in neutral.

"I don't blame you for...-" His voice trailed off because well, it took a moment to land and a pointed look from his mate to realize that he mostly meant Derek blaming himself, hence the word ourselves. "Right." No dying and no self-blame. It might be easier to make pigs fly but that was not something he said out loud, they all knew it.

Deaton watched the mates silently – and maybe hopefully – and even a small approving smile tugged at his lips.  
  
"When and how do we start?" Stiles broke the eye-contact with Derek to glimpse at the druid, his voice stronger and clearer.  
  
"Right now would be preferable if you are up to it," the vet suggested and waited until both nodded. "Show me your rune, Stiles."  
  
To that he reluctantly let Derek's hand go – missing the connection right away – and tugged up his henley's sleeve to take off the bandage. To his surprise, the rune was nearly completely healed, the lines still playing in a faint red. "Don't tell me I'll be able to heal faster too..."

With his hand returned, Derek glanced at the reveal of the bandage, again not surprised because when he had pulled pain, it hadn't come from there.

Deaton seemed to be on the same page. "Not quite, Stiles. Derek is able to heal faster. With your bonds to him, you have inherited some of his specific abilities. They are his, you simply borrow from him. Hearing, sight, smell, taste… those will all be stronger once you two have settled."  
  
There was no explaining the deep instant relief Derek felt hearing that from the older man. Stiles was going to be harder to kill, he was going to heal faster and he wasn't less human, he had the perks of werewolves, slightly, not fully but perhaps... "Can he use my healing through magic when the injury is more severe?"  
  
"It will require a spell, but it should be possible. However, it will transfer it to you so you both will have to be careful not to use that particular spell when Derek needs his strength in battle."

"Wicked..." Stiles blurted out, not being able to hold it back. Running with the pack and other non-human creatures was always the hardest on the humans of the gang when it came to keeping up, sensing danger and injuries. Stiles had had his fair share of those since Scott had been bitten and also a few during his work too. Knowing that he could kinda borrow some to heal was at least some good news. Not so much when it came to more serious injuries and their transfer to the wolf.

"Technically I know Derek can take a lot more than I ever could, but I still don't like this transferring-my-injury-to-him thing. So... maybe let's try to avoid that. How about using my magic to heal myself instead? Is that possible? Apparently I'm a Jedi now..." Stiles deadpanned, thinking about how he literally pulled a big muscular werewolf to him as if he had no weight. He was also unable not to feel a bit better from Derek's relief. It must have been quite frustrating for the wolf to know how fragile and mortal Stiles used to be. Now that seemed to be changing too. And who knows where those changes will stop?  
  
"Only time and practice can tell what you might be able to do with your magic, Stiles. Each emissary's magic is unique to the wielder. You'll have to explore it once you have better control over it," Deaton once again evaded giving a straightforward answer. Stiles wasn't even surprised by that at that point. Maybe he didn't know the answer or Stiles was 'just not ready for it', as he liked to phrase it way too often.  
  
"I'll find a way," Stiles stated determined. Inflicting wounds on his mate was an idea his whole body shuddered from.  
  
It wasn't that big of a deal for Derek to take the injuries from Stiles because they'd be human injuries which his body would heal fast and his discomfort would be only temporary. And it wasn't that Stiles was badly injured all the time. It was preferable to suffering for a moment instead of worrying for weeks in a hospital chair. It was something that they had to discuss when they weren't around Deaton. One of the many things and it felt like they weren't going to be done talking for months to come.  
  
Stiles was going to give up his job in San Francisco to be here with Derek, he was going to give up his apartment and friends, his life to come back to Beacon Hills, to be partner to a werewolf and help raise a little hybrid girl. He knew the young man didn't see it as a huge sacrifice, he wanted to do this, wanted to be involved with Elizabeth, wanted to make the loft their home. But it felt like a huge sacrifice and like Derek wasn't doing enough to compensate for all the human was willing to do for him and his small family. At least let him have the comfort in knowing that if it was needed, he could take the injury and pain from him, he wanted to.  
  
"And what now?" Stiles glimpsed down at his nearly healed rune, bringing Derek back from his thoughts.  
  
"Now you and Derek will connect once I explained what you'll have to do," Deaton provided, going to pull another stool opposite Stiles and gestured for Derek to sit down, but his focus was already back on the youngest man. "You can open the connection any time you put your forearms together and you repeat the same spell you used last night. Do you remember the words?"  
  
"Yes," Stiles said, tensing up a bit because he knew this was important and he couldn't screw up. If he took too much, he would hurt Derek.  
  
"Good. Once the connection is open, I need you to focus on keeping the magic in you in place and try to feel up the portion that's inside Derek. It might be... somewhat more difficult because missing half a soul messes things up metaphysically too in the body."  
  
"Makes sense. So what? I look for my magic and call some of it back to me?"  
  
"Exactly," Deaton smiled approvingly. "It'll take practice to find the perfect balance as the level and amount of your magic can leap time after time unexpectedly but as long as the connection is open, you can push and pull until it feels right and balanced. Is this clear to you?" he asked, not because he thought Stiles wouldn't comprehend what he was saying, but because it was crucial for him to know what he was doing to be able to manipulate the magic like that.  
  
"Sure. Emissary-mate training 101," Stiles grumbled, eyes glued to the rune on his arm, eyes widening for a split second when the outlines began shimmering in amber light and he felt a pull. As if the rune or the magic itself was already searching for that connection. "When I find that balance, I just close the connection, right? No extra Gandalf trick required?"  
  
Deaton's lips twitched upwards from that reference then he shook his head. "Yes, you just do that, no extra trick."

Settling in the chair, Derek knew he wasn't required to do more than just sit there and let Stiles roam inside with the magic, to keep the connection as open as possible. It shouldn't be painful since it hadn't been his magic in the first place, it was only stored there.

"Don't worry about hurting me, I can take it. Just don't commit suicide by killing me." That comment resulted in a snort and an eye-roll from Stiles while the wolf was already dragging the chair closer. He made sure their knees were touching so they could connect their arms easier. And he held out his arm, giving the permission to go ahead and do this.  
  
"I will not interfere but if I tell you to stop, Stiles, you stop. I will keep an eye on both of you but I can only know if you took too much if Derek starts to look sick."

The vet seemed worried, Derek noted, and he realized this balancing of magic might take longer than last time because the human had no idea what he was doing. And finding the balance when half of his soul had been filled up with magic not his was going to be tricky.

"If he takes too much..."  
  
"Then he'll give back tomorrow. It won't kill you, it will simply make you ill, like Stiles has been," Deaton answered him and that was fair enough. If Stiles could be sick for a day, he could survive a day too.

Stiles listened to Deaton closely. It was kind of a comfort to know that if he took too much, they could try again. But he had to fight off his insecurities and worries so he could believe... no, _know_ that he can do this. Just like when he managed to complete the mountain ash trap years ago, or when he was practicing with his witch friend. Or when last night they successfully did the ritual. (Even if then the magic was the participant that seemed to "know" the most what to do.) Now he'll have to focus on refining the process. Stop his mind trying to over-complicate and overthink it.  
  
Looking at Derek's bare forearm, he could see the same golden shimmering appearing on that rune too, calling for Stiles with the pull he felt from his own forearm. Taking a few deep breaths, he repeated his mantra in his head to clear it and focus on the task at hand. Lifting his own arm, he paused for a moment before their skin could touch to look at Derek. He was ready and felt calmer than Stiles, who drew from that to strengthen his belief.  
  
"Here goes nothing. Buckle up, folks..." he murmured then pressed his rune against Derek's, his long fingers curling around the muscular forearm. He could immediately feel the shift in both of them and even the room, his magic rising, bubbling up in him. But before starting the chanting, he focused on stopping and keeping it steady. With his mind he visualized a barrier sliding into place to hold it back from leaping at Derek the second the connection was established.  
  
When he felt he was ready, the young emissary began the chant and amber light began to shimmer between their pressed together arms. He could feel Deaton's worried but silent attention on them, but he ignored that and completely focused on strengthening that barrier and when his magic stayed put, he closed his glowing eyes and concentrated on Derek.

It was like following a thread up through the wolf's arm, twisting and forking down to many other ones. In his mind's eye he could see the tangled mess of the amber and golden threads – getting even more complicated and entangled the closer he got to the middle of his mate's chest, to his incomplete soul...  
  
Despite the trance he seemed to have slipped in, Stiles quietly gasped in-between two verses as he tried to take a better look at that. He never had such a "vision," never could "see" someone's soul like this. It indeed looked like... an incomplete, shapeless, slowly pulsing area, a core, but somehow Stiles knew that it wasn't as bright as it should've been. It was like a mini-sun turned down to half its capacity. And the threads of both bonds netted over it... protectively?  
  
For a moment the in-awe Stiles thought he could even touch it with his hand as it looked so palpable to him. Then he realized that he _can_ reach out for it with lightly pulling on his magic. So he carefully tugged on the thread that he was gravitating toward and imagined gently caressing the incomplete soul. His promise to make it whole again one day there in that gesture. He had no idea how it would feel to or affect Derek, but it felt like the right thing to do on his part. His own physical body – which felt so distant since the chanting has started – sighed with relief and relaxed some more.  
  
By then Stiles instinctively knew what to do. So he started tracing his "steps" back towards his body, the touching runes like a guiding beacon in his mind. And he kept a hold on one of the threads, pulling on the magic that was his. When the pull was too strong and the magic seemed to strain like a seat belt one jerks on too fast, he quickly eased up on the pull and continued more gently until he was back in his body and the magic followed through their open connection, joining the rest in him through the crack he had opened up in his mental barrier.

It was different this time, their contact, because the magic wasn't seeking solitude within Derek, it wasn't spilling over so it was much gentler. There was no rush of heat taking his breath away, not a sea of lava overtaking everything, it was like a caress. The tickling of feather light extremely hot fingers searching along his veins, crawling up inside deeper and deeper. The plan had been to sit there and watch Stiles do his thing but it was impossible to keep his eyes open at the intimate intrusion.  
  
Golden tendrils ran along his arm and up his chest, where the ember glowing eyes were focused on and if Derek would have seen it, he would have compared it to Superman's X-ray vision the way Stiles seemed to look inside of him. There was no way he could be even more bared to his mate, he might as well rip open his rib cage and stare at his beating heart but it wasn't as violent. It felt more like undressing for him for the first time, but not even that had been as intimate because nudity was normal for the werewolf and this? This wasn't normal at all.  
  
A strangled noise escaped Derek, when he felt the intent to reach out, alarmed by the notion because once before somebody had reached inside him and had touched his heart and it had been painful and horrifying. Once before somebody had been close to his soul and had ripped out half. His entire body tensed, fear pulsing along their bond and he felt Deaton hovering close by anxiously because the other man had no idea what was going on. He saw the magic hovering where the soul resided but to the emissary it shouldn't be a bad thing. Unless of course Stiles was messing with things he wasn't ready for.  
  
The feather touch reached forward to ease the werewolf's fear, touching the soul in a caress, a light pat as if to say ‘ _It’s okay, I’ve got you_ ’. It didn't do more, it was reassurance but it felt like... hope. And the touch of gold meeting his vulnerable soul, it was like a flick of light and warmth being added to the weakened spark within Derek. As if, for a moment, he was standing in the sun being warmed instantly. The strangled noise turned into a sob, gasped breathing while salty warm water trickled along his cheeks. They weren't even tears of sadness, more like a relief of... Derek couldn't describe what, it was so intimate and pure. It eased the way for taking the magic back because that wasn't as he had imagined he'd feel.

The younger man could feel it all through their connection and wide open bonds. How Derek was feeling. How moved he got from that experimental touch and it made his voice falter for a split second, getting thick with emotions too, but he was also happy that he could give this small bit of reassurance and hope to his mate. It was much more effective than any words could be and he was glad he did it.

Derek had thought he wouldn't feel much of it at all but it was like there were laces inside of him and Stiles was tugging them free. It wasn't painful, it wasn't pleasurable. Some of the tugs were rougher, like sharp jerks but he didn't feel emptier as he thought would happen, Stiles wasn't reaching close to the magic he needed to help him with the missing soul part.  
  
A pressure was felt behind his eyes, settling at his forehead, making it harder to think. So he growled in warning because that particular thread Stiles was tugging on was one he needed, the ache easing up when it was released.

He felt more in tune with Derek than ever before and it was a very intense feeling. Not overwhelming, though. It felt... right and made everything easier. Everything was so much clearer to Stiles in those moments, so when he heard the warning growl, he knew why he got that and corrected himself, taking hold of another thread that... "offered" that portion of magic, as if it knew it was misplaced and wanted to go to its right place.  
  
He had no idea how much time has passed since it seemed to stand still for the young emissary, but his focus and control stayed strong as he kept experimenting, searching for the right threads to touch upon. He was in no rush while doing so and soon he realized that his physical body felt warmer, the aching from his bones and joints slowly fading, the slight headache he's been sporting since he woke up gone, just like the fatigue as the taken back magic kept seeping into the pool inside of him, balancing them out more and more. He also felt more confident in what he was doing, because he was in full control now. He knew what to do and how to do it, he knew he wasn't hurting Derek like he feared he would.  
  
As his cheeks got back their healthy color too, he slowed down, the whispering of the magic calming around him – which he suspected only he could hear. And when the last tendril of the amber energy slipped through the runes like a small ethereal snake, he knew he didn't need more, so he changed the words of his chanting to the last verse that would close and break their connection. It didn't take long and when it was done and the nearly burning heat of the rune tamed to a warm distant throbbing, he slowly exhaled and opened his eyes, giving himself a moment or two to reconnect with the outside world. It was like slowly coming back from a deep meditation. The mind needed that careful surfacing so it wouldn't get messed up. But as Stiles looked up with his sweaty face, he wasn't disoriented or dizzy.  
  
"What?" he asked from both men staring at him as the amber roots were starting to fade from his arm, neck and chest.

To Derek it wasn't clear either how much time had passed, it could have been hours, it could have been fifteen minutes. It was hard to track the passing of time in this room, hard to keep track of anything when Stiles was doing his magic chanting. Their attention had been on what had been happening inwardly and besides some flashes of emotions coming from Deaton, nothing else had filtered through to the Hale.  
  
There was no different feeling, a slight stiffness to his joints from the pulling which faded rather quickly the moment he shifted in the chair after the ritual was done. Stiles looked much healthier, no longer looking like he was recovering from dying but more like he had woken up from a restful nap. The dark bruises under the eyes were gone and he didn't look as pale anymore so Derek felt less like he was taking advantage of their bonds. Of course he didn't know how he himself looked but he felt fine so he wasn't worried about that, if there had been too much taken, Deaton would have spoken up.  
  
But the vet was mostly quietly watching Stiles like he just witnessed a dead dog being revived on the table or something, even though he recovered from his shock quickly and that enigmatic smile had returned.

"Very good, it doesn't look like you will require much training in this area. You both have done well." And Derek couldn't help but detect some awe in those words, as if the druid was already calculating what else he could teach with all the potential he was facing in the room. The werewolf hadn't done much besides sitting there and letting his mate do what was needed, so he didn't react to the praising. Look at that, a grown man could sit in a chair, good job!  
  
The rune on Derek’s arm was back to its scarred appearance but the fingers on his arm from Stiles had left dark imprints, bruises which didn't fade just yet. They would, most likely within an hour or so but for now he marveled at having them. The danger of the human suffering was over. That was why they had come here in the first place so he assumed they were done for the day. Reaching out, he touched his mate's cheek. "You look healthy again."

Stiles' cheeks were still slightly flushed and damp from the light sheen of sweat caused by the deep concentration and the complicated maneuver he had to do. He instinctively leaned into Derek's warm touch and smiled from the relief he saw reflecting on his face.

"I feel much better too," he agreed and lifted his hand to put it on Derek's on his cheek. "And you look... less 'too young'. Like your normal self. So I believe this was a success," he chuckled relieved and exhaled long and loud. "Dude, this was intense! And so deep..." he lowered his voice, unable to look away from Derek's eyes as the amber in his own dimmed into a shimmering glow in his irises. Of course, he meant that 'soul touching' part and he rubbed the back of the warm hand in understanding.  
  
Going from looking like in his forties to looking like his early twenties had been a bit too much but looking like late twenties was more like it, considering that's where Derek was supposed to be. Somewhat. He didn't answer any of the words, only softly smiled in agreement to not looking so young anymore and that yes, it felt deep but not something he wanted to talk about in front of Deaton. No offense to the emissary but some things were private and soul touching was one of them since it didn't add anything to what the older man needed to know.

"Don't call me dude." Derek settled on that, briefly pressing their foreheads together. Stiles smiled from that, simply enjoying it for a long moment then pulled back to look at the vet.  
  
"And... are you sure, Doc? I mean, I was just doing what felt right. I mean... it was as if the magic was guiding me too..." he said and as he lowered their hands, he didn't let Derek's go.  
  
"That's the point, Stiles. For you to be in tune with your magic. It's like a symbiosis. It might not have a consciousness but it's a force of nature. Ancient and powerful. Druids have the strong ability to sync, to tune in with such powers and when they do, they can use that power for different purposes. What you just did for the first try, though... well, I have to admit that it was extraordinary for someone with so little training and experience like you," he hummed and picked up the two books from the examination table.  
  
"Oh Doc, you'll make me blush..." Stiles chuckled, the usual quirky spark back in his tone and eyes. He did feel more energized and balanced. For a brief moment he wondered for how long? After all, Deaton had said that surges in his magic can happen any time, so it was probably impossible to tell when they were going to have to do this again.  
  
Of course, the vet didn't react to that aside from a small lopsided smile before he held out the books for Stiles to take. "Here's your homework. One book is about what being an alpha's emissary can entail. The other is about mate bonds. I believe both of you will find useful information in these books."  
  
The thirst for knowledge flashed up in Stiles' suddenly eager eyes and he took the books, finally letting Derek's hand go. "Finally something to rely on!"  
  
"These books are old and far from covering all the possibilities, but yes, they are good starting points on your bonds and how to maintain them. Take tomorrow off to rest... and read," he paused watching Stiles already flipping eagerly through the pages in awe. "I'll see you on Tuesday evening. You both should be fine until then."  
  
"Thanks, Doc," Stiles murmured while reading through random pages. For someone who _loves_ research, this was like throwing candy. But he eventually caught himself and looked up. "Seriously. We both appreciate all the help we can get."

"Yes well, it wouldn't have been needed if the natural born werewolf had done his homework beforehand," the vet sassed and Derek was used to these remarks coming from the other.

It wasn't untrue, it wasn't a remark he hadn't earned and he wasn't going to make excuses for it. Instead he took the books from the human before he'd walk into something while reading them, giving a nod to Deaton as the beginning of acknowledgement. "Thank you." Simple and to the point, all the words he was going to exchange with Alan for the night because they had taken up enough time.  
  
A day of rest and reading sounded good to him, it would give them time to talk to Noah, come up with a plan how to explain it to the mini-Hale as well. The expected tiredness wasn't there though, and he's relieved that he's not taking a sick-looking mate home. Stiles seemed to have the same feelings of energy he had so Derek looked at his watch for the time. It was nearly midnight so it looked like sleep was the most likely to happen soon because there was a little girl eager to see her daddy in the early morning.


	3. 5: Bonds for Life - part 3

**5: Bonds for Life – part 3**

At the car, the werewolf gave the books back to Stiles because he wasn't allowed to drive the Camaro right now.  
  
"It's nearly midnight and I'm not tired." It made him hopeful that maybe these weeks of training weren't going to be as dramatic as he had imagined they'd be. "We should go home and try to, though." Or they could read the books since he had a feeling Stiles was going to dive into them on the short drive to the Stilinski home and read way too much, so they'd end up talking about that.

In the car Stiles did make grabby hands for the books before they were handed back to him, thus ending his slight pouting when they were ripped from him so cruelly in the clinic. He stroked along the worn brown leather cover of the "mate book" as he called it in his mind then flipped it open again, looking through the pages. There were some beautifully drawn pictures too, but for now he was more interested in what the different chapters covered. "Uh-huh..." he murmured to Derek absentmindedly, half-hearing what he suggested.  
  
Then at a red light he caught himself as he noticed the long silence – which wasn't unusual from Derek by any means. "Sorry, yeah... well, I doubt I'll be able to sleep for a while. I'm too pumped too. And relieved that the pain and fatigue are gone..." the younger man paused. "Am I a mage? Or a druid trainee? Or an emissary trainee now?" he frowned, the question of how to 'categorize' himself now popped up in his mind.  
  
"And… _dude_ , what will we tell to Beth and my dad? Dad might be easier. But he won't like the idea of me giving up my job in Frisco. He's so proud of that, even if he already knows about my plans of moving back. He's in the know, but I'm not sure how he'll react to the truth. Because I'm not gonna lie to him. We need him as a support system too with Beth and Melissa, because even if tonight went well, we have a lot to learn and it will keep us away more so we can focus on our bonds and all..." he mused, talking fast and maybe a bit worried how things would be now. This was a huge change in all of their lives.  
  
"Depending on how things will go here, I'll also have to go back to Frisco at some point to sort my shit out at work and pack up and move my stuff here. But for that we'll also have to maybe work a bit on the loft so at least my boxes could be moved there. Bringing them to my dad's just to move them to the loft would be stupid cuz why work twice with that? And I'll also ask my dad if he could work out some detective or consultant or other position for me at the station. I have a feeling that the supernaturals won't stop coming and our presence and task to protect the Nemeton and Beacon Hills will probably also draw in trouble. We are both magnets for that..."

Each time he opened his mouth to say something, the human rambled on, not giving Derek the chance to come in-between and as much as it could annoy him, it was good. Stiles felt like himself again, a little hyper but that could also be because he couldn't recall seeing him take his medication. And probably because he felt like he had taken a whole tray of energy drinks due to having the magic back. He simply let him talk, grinning amused to himself because it was familiar at least to have the rambling human sitting next to him in the car, talking his ears off.  
  
"Your boxes can be stored anywhere in the building, Stiles. I own the whole building, not just the loft." And there was a lot of space so those few boxes weren't going to be a problem. But maybe he should hire a few people to work on the loft because there was no time to do it all himself and there was the rest of the building to fix up, which was going to be his job for the coming year or so.

Derek wasn't much for sorting through things, he still had the apartment in New York with all his things, he hadn't gone back to it because there was too much of Laura there so he had gotten by with the few things he had taken with him to Beacon Hills. There hadn't been much to salvage from the old Hale house before it had been torn down. What hadn't burned down had been rotting due to the elements, had reeked of smoke so he had moved that to the vault.  
  
Plenty of space for Stiles' things, anything he wanted to take.

"Oh right, I forgot that my mate has a good nose for investments too," Stiles chuckled, noticing (and feeling) Derek's smile, which in turn coaxed out a big one from him too. He grinned like an idiot, really, but he didn't care. He felt giddy and back on track, even if maybe a bit too hyper. He'd take his medication once they got home. "I wonder if my 'landlord' is going to charge a lot for me staying in the loft or if he'd take payment in nature too as I'm not that rich to afford such a big place..." he joked/teased, sending a dirty look at Derek. He couldn't help it.  
  
"Otherwise, yes, I can store my boxes there and we should hire some manpower to move on with the rebuilding and restoration works," he echoed Derek's thought and didn't even notice how he'd started using "our" and "we" more and more while referring to them. It came naturally and sounded right. After all, they were one now.  
  
"We tell your dad the truth. I think he'll be happy having you closer and we do need his help. I don't want to be around Beth when I'm high on magic. I don't want her to see me like that." Which was what he was going to be for the upcoming appointments with Deaton for sure until he got more used to it. "But I don't know what to tell her." It was tricky, she was so young, she understood a lot but not what they were doing right now. He didn't want her to worry but she was going to scent them and know something was up.  
  
"If she sees me out of it... that’s too many triggers so I'll need you to decide when we go home or not." Maybe they should have a spot to go to when they aren't capable of being around others. The loft wasn't done but it had a bed and all the comforts they could need. Pulling up to the Stilinski house where only the porch light was on, he sighed. They are going to figure it out, they had a few hours for it.

"Yes, dad will be more happy about me moving back, I guess," he hummed, lost in his spinning thoughts for a moment then looked more seriously at Derek as they stopped by the house. "It'll be tricky with Beth, yes. But it's understandable why you don't want her to see you like that. I promise I'll take you to her only when it's safe and you are not high. She doesn't need to be reminded of Hell," he sighed and slid a comforting hand on top of the wolf's which was still resting on the gear shift. "I could take us to the loft maybe? Sleep it off or wait it out? But that means I'll get to drive the Camaro! Unless we go with my Jeep," he said on a tongue in cheek way.  
  
It hadn't been that great an investment to buy an old industrial building which had been turned into apartments a long time ago but never had been used as such. The wiring was old, the heating was old but the structure was solid and the roof hadn't needed any work at all. It was in an older part of the town, mostly industrial buildings in the near vicinity so it was remote enough and the ground floor of the building was parking space mostly. The idea had always been to fix it up to make it a good building to sell but he never had bothered, like with many buildings he owed. Peter had always put his money in vaults while Derek had invested it in buildings. A few of those he had sold a couple of years back with a lot of profit so money wasn't an issue, his investments were doing well. One of the buildings was apartments, all rented out, with a manager he had hired who made sure maintenance was kept up. More than half of what he earned went back in the building but the rest was what kept him able to have monthly income.  
  
"I think I can be persuaded to take my payment in bed," he teasingly retorted, knowing Stiles had no idea how much money he had because he wasn't flaunting it even though his credit cards were limitless and as much as he would like to stay under the radar, he had banking accounts and he paid his taxes. Nothing illegal because that would only get attention he didn't want. The Hales had always done their best to be law abiding citizens as long as it was possible, of course, since there were also supernatural laws and they came before human laws.

"And yes you can drive the Camaro, I'm not going to sit in your death trap."  
  
Why people thought he wouldn't let others drive in his car was beyond him, because Scott, Stiles and Isaac had all been driving it in the past. Reluctantly offered but that had been more because of the situation and not the drivers. Which was also something they had to do – get another car, because he wanted the jeep fixed before Stiles would use it. It was more duct tape than anything else.

"Good! I'll come up with a way to persuade you," Stiles winked at Derek with a grin as he unbuckled himself too then faked a shocked and offended expression. "Don't ever insult the Jeep! She's a character and I love her just as much – if not more – like you love this car! Also, she saved you many times too!" Stiles pouted.  
  
It was true that his jeep had to be fixed more often than not, but it's been his first car. He'd put a considerable amount of money and time – and many, many adventures – into it. Exactly because of that and her character, he refused to get rid of it for another car or a newer model.  
  
Stiles looked at Derek more seriously. "We'll also have to talk about... what just happened in those... intimate moments neither of us wanted to mention in front of the Doc..." he bit his bottom lip, chewing on it a little. "I'm sorry if I overstepped a boundary or something, I just... couldn't resist and it felt the right thing to do. And I had a feeling you needed that kind of reassurance and safety. I swear I'll find a way to make you whole again. You're beautiful, by the way. On the inside. With all the imperfections too. I wish you could've seen it too..."

Turning the engine off, Derek unbuckled and leaned back in the seat to glance over at the human. "Deaton knows I'm missing part of my soul but I don't like talking about it." Especially around a man who knew the importance of souls and what it did to somebody to go without one.  
  
"I gave it away, a price I paid willingly and doesn’t regret because it got me and Elizabeth safe, but I don't think anybody realized what it feels like and you..." Once again a pause to search for the right words to use. "You touched the emptiness. You’ve seen what's left." Derek’s hand touched his chest. He knew there wasn't that much there anymore but it felt better with their bonds, with the magic. "You reminded me of my humanity. For a second I felt whole again." And that he hadn't wanted to share with anybody but Stiles.

The young emissary was very curious about how it had felt to his mate his soul being touched by Stiles, but knowing (he felt it!) how personal this was for Derek, he didn't want to nag him about it. He just hoped that the wolf would open up about it and tell him. He did exactly that and it resulted in a soft smile as warmth spread in Stiles' chest in response.  
  
"I could tell you didn't want to talk about this in front of Deaton, that's why I didn't elaborate on it. I get it how very personal this is. It was for me too. I never touched a soul like that, but as I said, it felt right. Plus emissaries are to remind the wolves – even their alpha – that they are human too. In our case this applied then even more," Stiles said, leaning closer to slide his hand over the spot where Derek's has been just a few moments ago. "And I meant it. Or rather my soul meant it. I'll find a way to make you whole again in a permanent way. Because I want to help you live a whole life again. While I was back in Frisco, I had the opportunity to meet up with my witch friend. She showed me the ritual that seems to be the solution, but I have to consult about it with Deaton first. To make sure it's the right one. That it would work. It's... dangerous and complex, but give me some time to figure it out. I have to learn on my own too, grow into my magic and stabilize it because it requires solid control which I don't have just yet. I'm sorry for that, but I'll try my best to get to the point to be able to help you as fast as possible," Stiles explained as he kept his hand on Derek's chest, lightly caressing and staring at it as if he was making that promise also to the soul there.

No, Derek would never be human because he was werewolf and wouldn't be human. He had been briefly and didn't care for a repeat. Sure, he had done his best, had accepted it without complaint, hiding away how much it had influenced him to not draw attention to himself. But as a born werewolf, it had been very disconcerting to be without his powers and he knew he acted unlike humans, but he did have humanity. Less than he should with so much of his soul missing.  
  
"The longer we take, the more I'm slipping into not feeling. Our bonds make it easier to bear but I don't want to become the monster others think I am." Stiles wouldn't let him, he knew that. It wasn't something he was going to have to face alone and their bonds bought them time. How much time they really had though, he didn't know, it's been too long without his soul already. He didn't care how dangerous it was, if that ritual would make him whole again, he was going to do it. It would make it all easier for them, he wouldn't use as much magic from Stiles and his mate would be able to draw from him easier without having to map out the strings like they had been doing tonight. However it was better if Stiles was surer in his magic before dragging him into this.

"You have more control than you think." Maybe that's why they had bonded the way they had – to help him, settle him, anchor him. For a brief moment he clasped the hand on his chest, giving it a soft squeeze before letting go. "Let's head inside and make ourselves comfortable on the couch to read." The mention of bed was forgotten for now, Stiles was way too tired to be able to but he did sense the human was cold, hence the rush to get inside.  
  
He grabbed their bags, letting Stiles carry the old books, realizing that he wasn't going to have to say goodbye again to his mate. They were going to stay together from now on. Pleased with that notion, he followed after the younger man.

_‘The longer we take, the more I'm slipping into not feeling.’_ That sentence kept echoing in Stiles' head and it hit him hard. It was dropped from Derek's mouth seemingly casually, but he could tell how hard it really was for him to tell these very personal things to him. Stiles was very grateful for this deep trust, because he knew how rare it was for Derek to let someone in this far. For a brief moment he wondered if because he was his mate, he was going to become the one the wolf would let in the furthest? (Besides Beth, of course.)  
  
He had to really speed things up, sleep as little and learn as much as he can to be able to do that ritual properly now that he really understood what was at stake. Of course, he wouldn't let Derek become any kind of a monster, but knowing that the bonds' hold was finite notched his anxiety and self-doubt up a bit. Derek (and even Deaton) seemed to think he was more in control than he thought, but Stiles was just not that sure about that. He felt like there were more instincts and luck involved in what he's been doing than actual control. But he wasn't going to stop to argue about it when time was so precious and scarce.  
  
Instead he marched into the house with the books and with a new resolve to stay up until his eyes were bleeding. Okay, that was a little bit over the top dramatic, but he didn't care as the nice warmth started seeping back into his limbs and kicking his shoes off he nestled into the couch, flicking the side lamp on. The house was quiet – both Beth and Noah sleeping upstairs – so it was an ideal setting for a late night reading session.  
  
By the time Derek settled next to him, Stiles was already half-way through the first chapter of the emissary book. It was a historical overlook of nature, druids and the ancient connection between them.

Stiles seemed to take it to heart what he had said because he was deep in thought, settling on the couch with the books without another word. For a moment Derek had watched him with a shake of his head, because maybe he shouldn't have said that about his soul, adding more worry to the already growing list of all the things the human had to do swiftly. On top of him having to move back to his hometown and an apartment to clean out. Not that he had to do that all by himself but he knew that the other was making a mental list of things to do, tackling everything in the shortest amount of time possible. Well, Derek was going to make sure he wasn't going to ruin his health with it.  
  
Putting the bags near the stairs, he didn't bother bringing them up yet because it might wake one of the occupants upstairs. Most likely one little werewolf girl who was a light sleeper and would notice him despite how extremely quiet he could be. His shoes had been kicked off at the door so he silently padded to the kitchen to get some drinks and food, choosing to go with a couple bags of various flavored chips, it was at least a little filling for a while. And it didn't require heating up in the microwave like so many of Stiles' snacks needed. The beeping would wake up the toddler as well. The wolf set it all down within reach and grabbed for a comforter to shove Stiles' way.  
  
"I hope you brought some snacks and something to drink..." Stiles murmured quietly, so lost in the book that he didn't even look up to check. There was a new kind of fire in his eyes – the thirst for knowledge mixed with a sense of urgency which wasn't going to let him rest any time soon...

"Drinks and snacks and paper towels since I doubt Deaton will like dirty fingers all over his books." Since the human had the emissary book, he took the other one to settle on the couch with his mate, opening it up. There was a piece of paper in the front with a hastily scribbled index so he ran his eyes along the topics, groaning at all the things he realized were in this book. It didn't just deal with the mental and magical aspect of being bonded, no, it was also dedicating chapters to werewolf mating habits.

"I'm not sure if I want you to read this book." Though, on the other hand, it would save him ridiculous questions like if he could get Stiles pregnant.  
  
As before, the answer was still no. Male and male still didn't equal baby which he hoped the book would explain as well. Probably not. It was old and werewolves back then maybe weren't so open about same sex relationships. These days, it was common, nothing anybody even blinked about.

Stiles looked up just when the comforter landed on his head. Pulling it off, it made his messy hair look even messier, but he didn't complain just scooted over to Derek, putting the soft and warm fabric around them. It was such a good thing that he had a werewolf as his pair because let's face it, it was like dating a heater. Which was fortunate when his body was a bit cold from tiredness, even if his mind was reeling with magic and all the new information and urges to soak up as much as possible. He wanted Derek to feel. He wanted him whole and healthy again – both physically and mentally and well, in spirit too, of course.  
  
"You're the best, I swear..." Stiles sighed content both from the warmth that now surrounded him and the snacks his mate has brought them without him needing to ask. Maybe Derek could kinda read his mind too, or he just knew him too well. Either way, he opened a bag of bacon-flavored chips and dug in, soon munching on the too salty and definitely not healthy food. But he didn't care. His attention was more on Derek and his comments. He forced himself to look away from what he was reading with his side leaning into the other man's.  
  
"Why wouldn't you want me to read the mating book? Is there something kinky or embarrassing in it?" he perked up, licking his lips clean and trying to take a peek into the book where it was open in Derek's hand. "You know that I'll read it anyways... Is it about mating that makes you so uncomfortable? Is there more than knotting the hell out of me? No new Hale baby will be produced, right? We talked about that before..." he chirped in a teasing but very interested manner, enjoying Derek's embarrassment to the fullest. "I'll know all the secrets of your kind, eventually. Get used to the thought, Derek," he winked.

There was a not so subtle wrinkling of Derek’s nose when he caught a whiff of bacon coming from the bag of chips but really, it was all old fat and the chemical taste of bacon, not actual bacon added to it. Which was pretty much the problem with all the chip flavors. They were chemically added which wasn't a good thing for a born werewolf's palette. Luckily, he did the groceries so he had added plain chip bags to the snacks as well, couldn't go wrong with baked potatoes and salt. Usually. Because he had to admit he was a brand fanatic, not because of the prices but because of the tastes. Munching on a handful of chips, he made sure to chew very slowly while Stiles waited for an answer and he couldn't because he had his mouth full.  
  
It didn't work for very long because he had to swallow at some point.  
  
"I think it'll give you ideas, like the internet does. Only in here is actual truth." And that meant the Hale couldn't bullshit his way out of it. Only way to get ahead of it was to make sure to read it before Stiles but the human reads like he eats – he inhales books. While Derek carefully reads it and then rereads it to take it in word for word. He wasn't a slow reader, but he didn't reach Stilinski speed. Wiping his fingers, he adjusted the book so the other couldn't read along with him. "You stick to yours. Besides, not all wolves have knots, only the born ones. But don't tell Scott that, I want to see his face when you tell him there are knots." It wasn't a question of if, but more of when because of course Stiles would tell his best friend all about it, even when McCall didn't want to hear about it. Or he might. He had matured and more importantly, wizened up since college.

"Hey, rude!" Stiles pouted for a moment when the pages were hidden from him then stuffed his mouth with some more chips, munching on it happily – and nearly spitting some morsels all over Derek because of his comment. His eyes were shining now with mischief as he quickly swallowed and then grinned at his mate.

"I love making Scott freak out. I also love how you want to see that. I love your humor, did I tell you that before?" he giggled. Man, he was such a lucky bastard to be able to call himself Derek's mate. In moments or situations like these he really felt that he had found his match. His accomplice, if you will. Someone who shares his humor – obviously not always as Derek often doesn't find things funny which amuses Stiles, but still. Someone who finally understands and accepts him with all his shortcomings too.  
  
That thought made him melt more against Derek's side, noticing for the umpteenth time how well their bodies always fit even with the nearly same height. _It must be a mate thing too_ , he thought briefly. And he loved that too. He loved...  
  
Derek’s humor mostly included him being an asshole, and being a troll was one of his enjoyments. Especially when it was with Scott, he was such an easy target, even now years later. There was always this gullible quality to him, despite the confidence he had grown in and this weird zen-like flirtatiousness Derek wasn't sure how to handle when the true alpha was visiting Beacon Hills. He'd comment how the Hale was hot and look at him with that big smile of his, making it hard to avoid saying something in return so he'd grumble something. At least Stiles was into freaking Scott out like that because their sense of humor didn't always line up. Most of the time. Stiles was able to fall over laughing while watching funny animal videos and Derek got more pleasure out of watching people do stupid things like planking and then falling off. Because watching idiots was incredibly satisfactory, one of the reasons he liked watching his mate.  
  
"I can't wait to read through all that you’re trying hiding from me. You cannot do that for long, you know. Have to be prepared and get those ideas of mine going," Stiles continued then ate some more chips, talking while chewing – and spitting small morsels over himself. "And what makes you think that I'd want you to read all the rituals and whatnot in this book? I'm sure there are things here you had no idea my kind can do. I'll be allll exposed to you too," he wiggled his brows from the double talking. Damn, it was difficult not to let his mind circle back to sex when he was practically plastered to the side of the most gorgeous man for Stiles, his scent and warmth invading him. It took some effort to keep the magic calm and not let it get stirred up by his wandering thoughts, but he didn't mind. He was content right where he was.  
  
Smiling to himself, Stiles picked up his own book to continue reading – not that he couldn't continue the conversation like that, too. His mind was good with thinking in different directions at the same time.

As the human sidled up to him, Derek knew why and still kept the book's contents hidden because no, Stiles could read it himself later, no matter how much he tried to get closer. It was a cute attempt, but it wasn't working. However he did appreciate sharing body warmth with him, not because he needed it but because Stiles needed it. And it allowed him to revel in their scent even more, which he loved. What he didn't love was being sprayed by flutters of chips each time there were words being uttered, which was pretty much all the time.

"I'll be reading your book, you can't keep it hidden from me for long." The wagged eyebrows were ignored because no, they were not about to have sex on the couch. His daughter had to sit on the couch, the sheriff had to sit on it. "Read."  
  
Derek wasn't as gifted to be able to hold a conversation while reading so he went back to the book, enjoying the silence falling over them while they were engrossed in the reading material.

"We should both read the books and then discuss what we want to." Maybe. Since not everything he was willing to discuss even though he knew it was going to be asked. Like his ruts. Nobody had ever seen him in one because it had been private back then. He had made sure to not be in town the one or two times a year he had them. The dog jokes had been, still were, a recurring theme, he hadn't felt the need to add oil to the fire. But now that they were mates, it was something to be discussed and unavoidable.  
  
Derek’s frown deepened the more he read, because yes, he should have done more research. It clearly stated that newly bonded mates shouldn't be apart for long or far in the beginning or they'd get sick and lose control. And if Stiles had died, he would have as well. He had endangered his mate.

Stiles only hummed in agreement before he let himself get completely lost in what he was reading, time after time making some small surprised or interested – and even shocked – noises. He was past only one quarter of the book but could already tell that Deaton was right about this being a starting point as it didn't go as deep into things like he would've liked. So he hoped that the vet was going to give them more books to get to the bottom of things. Or teach him during his training, because he could feel that there was a whole new world still mostly hidden from him, waiting to be discovered while growing into his new statuses.  
  
Emissary. Mate. Spark.  
  
It kinda sounded like one of the mantras the wolves liked to use with their young or freshly turned ones to gain control over their urges. It was kinda ironic in Stiles' opinion, but it was also fitting.  
  
"Stop frowning so damn loudly..." Stiles murmured, too lazy and comfortable to even lift his head from Derek's chest. Who would've thought that he'd be good at being a pillow? Okay, Stiles already had some test runs, so he knew... but still. Even so, Derek's thoughts were nearly louder than the heartbeat he could hear under his ear. It was oddly calming and comforting while reading. Its steady rhythm making Stiles' eyes fly across the lines while his mind was processing the new information he was drinking in.  
  
A heated glare was thrown to Stiles when he was told he was frowning too loudly, which was basically the Derek Hale equivalent of sticking his tongue out. It was all he did with it because he was allowed to frown when he wanted to. Especially considering everything he was reading though he was tempted to mock Stiles giving his verbal reactions by copying them, if he had been in the mood. He wasn't.  
  
Instead his attention went back to his book, enjoying the quietness once more while Stiles was a source of solid weight against his chest, his hums and noises sending vibrations through him each time like a comfort.  
  
In Stiles’ book after the historical overview and origins of the druids, there was a whole (shorter) chapter on the Nemeton trees and then in the same chapter the book moved to the druid's/emissary's connection to nature. Standard stuff, really, but when it began listing off what type of abilities and powers they could have, Stiles' interest perked up – he even lifted his head a bit from Derek's warm chest.  
  
"Hey... Did you know there are different types of powers an emissary can have? Apparently each resonates with an element – earth, water, fire, air. And there's a whole sub-chapter on Sparks!!" he gaped, making sure to keep his voice low. Of course, Stiles couldn't wait with his comments until they both finished the books... "Deaton never talked about what a Spark is. I had no idea it's apparently a quite rare and the most powerful kind of emissary, usually gifted with powers that are tied or based on the fire element," he went silent as he realized that he was just confirmed by a book that he had brought more fire into Derek's life. That realization kept him from uttering some inappropriate jokes or comments. Maybe he even felt a bit guilty about it again. Because the irony of it all! It looks the Universe wanted to teach Derek a lesson – how to move past the fire that had traumatized him and been with him ever since it had happened. A Spark Emissary and Mate. Quite the bundle, he had to admit...

For a while they were flipping their pages, Stiles crunching chips while reading because he never could focus on just the one thing alone. Until the soft voice of his mate broke through the silence, almost gleefully informing him of the fact that he was a druid called a Spark whose element was fire. It made Derek pause in his reading to look up, staring at the top of that dark head while he sorted out his own feelings about it. It gave the human the chance to realize what it really meant and some guilt was trickling into the air.  
  
Derek inhaled sharply, fire had been... a problem. After the house and family had burned down, but over the years it had eased and he had been fine with using lighters and blowtorches, he actually enjoyed using those to burn out wolfsbane. He had been fine with fire as long as he was the one wielding it, as long as it hadn't been big but then he had been burned as torture, had felt what his family had felt and it had triggered everything again. It had killed him and now he couldn't even deal with candles anymore. He _hated_ fire, hated the way it made him feel when he was close to it. That mind-numbing fear which would take away all reason and make him lose control. He also hated losing control.  
  
The lava Stiles represented, his magic, it wasn't the same, Derek was okay with that, weirdly. But if Stiles' magic outwardly would show as fire, if fire was going to be an active part of their lives, well, that wasn't good.  
  
With a sigh, simply because of the realization that he couldn't push his fear away anymore, he went back to his book. "I'll learn to deal with it. It'll be fine." Right, because Stiles was going to sense his fear and maybe freak out for putting Derek in that state or feel guilty and it was going to cause even more problems. So fine wasn't even close to what it was going to be like. But eventually, soon hopefully, it was going to be fine. Derek was used to dealing with overwhelming emotions, to swallow them down and focus on going on. And with half his soul gone, it might even numb the fear considerably.

"Right..." Stiles murmured, not convinced at all, because he had felt the subtle way how Derek's whole body tensed up and how long that pause was before his short comment. Not to mention the faint sense of fear, which wasn't coming from Stiles. The last thing he wanted was his mate to fear a part of him. The very core of his being. Because then what was the use of the bonds and their relationship? It'd only raise the inexperienced druid's anxiety levels and fears about his magic. It never manifested like fire before, but as he'll learn more and it'll grow, it might. What if he cannot stop that from happening in the heat of a fight, perhaps? What if it was going to put a wedge between them and would start to deteriorate their bonds? They will have to trust each other completely, without secrets, to be able to maintain the bonds and their relationship... Or at least that's what Stiles thought and was sure they would also read about in these books...  
  
"I'll try to help you with the dealing," Stiles added another promise to his list. He meant to keep this one too for Derek. Everything he did was for Derek... _for them_ , even if the wolf might not realize that yet. Giving up his job, moving back and in with him, trying to learn about magic and control, training to become a worthy emissary and mate. He wanted to be able to protect his mate, Elizabeth, his dad and all the innocents who will surely get caught up in the shit storms that tended to hit this town time after time. He will do it all for Derek, because he...  
  
Derek’s voice brought him back from his reverie. "Why do you think Deaton hadn't encouraged you with magic? Being a Spark, in a town with a supernatural beacon, you'll be like a flame drawing moths. Evil powerful moths. Fire kills them, but even a flame gets blown out at some point."

"I think Deaton didn't encourage or teach me before exactly because of that. Not to become a beacon before I'm ready. He said this much – I wasn't ready for this. But now he doesn't have a choice, I guess, since my Spark was ignited by you and your closeness and the Nemeton and the feelings we have and whatnot," Stiles said quietly, letting himself be distracted by this topic. It was better than on top of everything else starting to dissect what he was doing for, what he was feeling for Derek meant.  
  
Derek was right, though, and Stiles wondered briefly what would take to blow his flame out too. How much would they have to take before that happened? Because even with the training that was ahead, Stiles had no illusion of becoming invincible. Life didn't work like that. Yes, magic will be a useful and powerful asset for them, but he was going to bleed and die just like everyone else, if he wasn't careful. He couldn't let the growing power get to his head. He'll have to be careful for everyone's sake, for a change. He didn't care if he got hurt, but from now on it meant Derek would get hurt too as their lives were deeply tied together.  
  
"I know I'll have to be careful and prepared, but I'm ready and determined to work hard." _To make you proud of having me as a mate_ , he added in his mind. That was both his biggest fear and motivator to learn and evolve. Fear of Derek rejecting him after everything, and a motivator to push himself harder to avoid that and live up to his roles and positions. After all, being the mate and emissary of the Hale pack's alpha still carried more weight in the supernatural world than Derek might think.

There was no way to help him with dealing. If Stiles' element was fire, then that was going to be part of everything and Derek was going to have to accept that and move on. It would be better for him to have one fear less because it was a weakness and he had enough of those already. Stiles had sacrificed enough, he didn't need to give up more just to avoid hurting his feelings. People got over fears all the time so he should be able to as well. It was fine, it was going to be fine. No big deal.  
  
As Stiles just said, Derek was just as much responsible for what had happened. If they hadn't gotten closer, if they hadn't given into their feelings, if he hadn't kissed Stiles out of nowhere, then that Spark wouldn't have been ignited and they wouldn't have been in this mess in the first place. Not that Stiles was a mess but the human deserved more when in a relationship, not giving up everything on top of having so much magic he had to make Derek his familiar because there was too much and it had been killing him. Their feelings suddenly had become less of a priority when their lives were threatened and that wasn't the way to start anything. But they couldn't undo it.

"You're not ready, but Deaton will help you get ready." And the Hale was going to do everything in his power to make it easier, even when he had to choke on his own fear to do it. "I'll help you get ready, and after that we'll move, so we can focus on getting you able to have a normal life without dying on me."

Derek didn't want Stiles spending energy on the loft when he needed it the coming weeks to get the basics done. Of course his training would need longer, he imagined it was going to be a weekly session for the older druid and the younger one to work together.

"Don't worry about money or work for now. I've got it covered." Nor was there much of a pack for Derek to worry about, his focus would be on Stiles and Elizabeth, Cora was capable of taking care of herself, she always had.  
  
His attention went back to the book because part of being ready meant they had to be prepared, do their research. Tomorrow they were going to tell Noah and Elizabeth, rally up more people to help out. His job for now was to be there when Stiles needed to get rid of excess magic or take some of it back. The books were all about basics, but it covered all they needed to know for now.

"You ready to switch yet, Sparky?"

Despite all the worried thoughts he suddenly had crowding his mind, Stiles couldn't help himself from chuckling on how Derek called him. It was a rare thing from Derek Hale to use such endearments. "Nice nickname... And I'm always ready to switch, my Sugar Daddy..." he pushed himself up on his elbow to be able to look at Derek with a smug grin. It did kinda sound like having a sugar daddy now, even if Stiles knew that wasn't the case.

"I have some savings too, you know. Not as much as you, but it'll be enough for a while," he shrugged. "I'm also not planning on dying on you and I expect the same from you too. I'm gonna need you in that normal life even more than in the magical one," the human smiled softer and climbed up on Derek to kiss him briefly, knowing that he didn't like the taste of artificial stuff, but he needed to do that to reassure both of them.  
  
"Alright, let's switch for a while. I'll need to read the 'how to be impartial' thing with a clearer mind anyway. Preferably after a solid seven hours of sleep." Not that it happened to him often. Stiles was happy when he could sleep more than three hours without waking up from a nightmare, so he often went with short naps instead to keep functioning. When he was on a challenging case or problem, he rather chose energy drinks and a slight overdose on his medication to keep him up. But today he completely forgot to take his meds.  
  
On his way to lay back onto his comfortable "pillow," he put his book on Derek's chest and snatched the book from the other man's hand. He was getting excited again from learning more truths about wolf packs. Much more than he could from the internet. It was also easier to focus on the new material than giving into his worries and insecurities that kept nagging him in the back of his mind. The following day was going to be... interesting too as he didn't know how Beth and his dad are going to react. But one step at a time, right?

"That's not sexy talk, you know." Derek protested at the terrible nickname of being a sugar daddy but at least his older age didn't bother him anymore now that Stiles was an adult as well. Still grumbling, he returned the kiss, wanting to object to Stiles using his savings because it wasn't needed but if the situation had been reversed, he wouldn't have wanted to have his mate pay for him either, or at least not for everything. So he kept his mouth shut, wanting it to be equal for them both.  
  
The other book was heavier reading. It covered a lot for Stiles being emissary but Derek wanted to read it too, wanted to know what the human was going to have to be dealing with.

Eventually, a few hours into their switch, Stiles had been unable to keep awake despite his energy boost. It was probably a good thing he had forgotten his meds so he wouldn't still be wide awake. He needed his sleep more than Derek did. Gently and carefully, the wolf took the book away to close it, along with his own.  
  
For a while he was simply sitting there with his mate asleep, pillowed on his lap, watching him take deep even breaths. Maybe these moments were going to make it easier for them to handle. Moments of quietness where they were able to do things normal couples enjoyed, like watching the loved one sleep. Derek didn't bother with even an attempt at sleeping because Elizabeth would be awake in a couple of hours anyways and he was fine with a night of no sleep after the many hours they had slept. He was perfectly content to be here on the couch, the clock ticking the time away from the hallway, the soft snores and puffs of breath from Stiles loud in the silence, the two heartbeats upstairs comforting. It was a moment to cherish and that was exactly what he did.


End file.
